Before the Dawn
by BesserwisserForHire
Summary: Clark doesn't know anything anymore but the one fact that they have all silently agreed on. They have to find Robin. / S1. Birdflash.
1. Chapter 1

Based on a prompt from the Young Justice Anonymous Fic Meme by _f_flamequeen_

**TW for story:** Graphic torture, non-graphic rape, depression, suicide attempts. Rated M for a reason.  
**TW for chapter:** None  
**Pairing:** Birdflash / WallyxDick  
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* * *

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be simple. _But that's how it always goes, isn't it? _Just a ''simple'' mission, get in, gather the information, get out. Disappear. Like ghosts drifting through the walls; the world goes on as if nothing ever happened.

But it was never that simple. Something always happened, something that would set off the domino effect that came with being a hero; that came with getting nose to nose with madmen- _murderers_, for heaven's sake - for sending _children_ to do an adult's job. An adult with half a life time worth of training and oh_deargod _how could they not have expected this? Well, of course they expected the children to get hurt and bruised, burnt and broken but never this _bad_, never this horrible never -

Diana takes a deep breath as she circles the area for what feels like the hundredth time yet nothing changes. The scenery lies before her as it was a mere moment ago and remains unchanged. The rubble and the debris changes locations depending on whether Superman has turned it over or not; judging by the look on his face he already has, a million times, yet his efforts have remianed futile. They all search, for hours it seems but she can't be certain as no one stops to check the time - they don't _have _time, they have to find him before it's too late and what if he's under a beam or fifteen tons of concrete what if he's dead what if he's crushed oh _dear Hera have mercy _-

''He's gone''

Superm - no, _Clark_, looks at her as if he's trying to rip himself away and out of his own body, away from this delusional scene of everything they always knew could happen but never actually thought _would_ happen because he's Robin, for god's sake it's _Robin_, their little, tiny acrobat who's become more like a son than anything over the years and he _can't _be gone, nonononononno she won't let him be gone he _can't be _-

''Diana?'' Clark's hand is large and heavy on her shoulder, adding to what feels like the weight of the world she can't tell if the sinking of her feet is just imaginary. ''Are you alr-''

''I'm _fine''_

She doesn't mean to brush him off. She can tell by the peculiar way his eyes glaze over, as if a shielding lid has slid over them, slid over him to protect him from what she's trying to deny, she can tell that he's hurt but at the moment she can't find it in her to care.

''Is Bruce..?''

''He's been notified'' Clark speaks as if it was any other day, as if nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary, like maybe they misplaced a jet or someone dropped their communicator - Barry, maybe - and it was all going to be fine if they just calmed down and _breathed, dammit _but she can't breathe she can't -

Diana clenches her eyes shut as she tries to compose herself .Tries to remember who she is and what she stands for but it's so hard to be brave. Nevermind facing Giganta or crushing meteors, this is different because _this time she is utterly powerless._ With all the gifts of the gods she is still so _useless_ and it hurts how it hurts that the great Amazon who can deflect bullets and stop derailing trains can't even find a child who is like family to her_._

''This isn't... this isn't your fault''

She can't tell if Clark is trying to convince her or himself, more so it sounds as if he's just murmuring empty words to fill the silence. The silence that isn't really a silence as much as it is the horrible sound of feet walking in circles and rocks being turned but revealing nothing and she can't _take it anymore _she has to get out has to find Bruce has to find something, anything that makes any sense at the moment and she -

Clark barely sees her as she speeds off into the night, disappearing as a glimmer in the starry canvas and for a second his mind stands still. Clark doesn't know if it scares him more that the child he has grown to love like a nephew is missing or that the strongest woman he knows can't take it; that she has to run away like a frightened girl and not the strong, powerful woman he knows and if she can't be brave, how can he? Clark doesn't know anything anymore but the one fact that they have all silently agreed on.

They have to find Robin.


	2. Chapter 2

This got a little out of order because part of this is actually chapter one but I totally overlooked that, ah well. I put it to chapter 2 so all is well, I suppose.

**TW:** Torture

* * *

''He's alive. He has to be alive.''

Wally is pacing around the room like he's been doing for the past half hour, only to him it has been so much longer than that. When every second stretches vast as an hour, the pain and the worry and the what if I'd been there he was right _there_ I should have done more I should have done enough why is it never _enough_ - it becomes too much for him to handle. He tries to slow his mind down but there is nothing stopping the imagery playing - taunting him - in his head.

Wally wipes his eyes, though dry he hopes to rub the tiredness away. His every muscle is screaming, twitching in pain and his body is begging him to sit down. But Wally can't rest, Wally can't stop, can't stop _thinking_, wondering if maybe there was something, anything they could have done to prevent this

It had been so simple. They only had to collect some information, only had to sneak in and download some files and get out of there but suddenly there were so many of them. Bad men with guns everywhere and then something exploded and they were all nearly crushed but Robin got them out, he got them out of there before they could be crushed what if Robin was crushed they had to _find _him and Wally couldn't breathe.

M'gann tries desperately but in vain to find his mind; where his thoughts had previously frolicked in her own there is but a void. As if Robin has been sucked out of their world completely, M'gann fears the worst but tries not to think of it as she painfully grips Conner's arm. Had he not been part Superman her nails would have cut his skin but he is strong, he can handle it, he can handle her which is good because god knows she can't. She wants to do something, be useful, comfort the others as their thoughts, unlike Robin's, are open to her and their pain seeps in like an ice cold flood. It takes all her might not to buckle under their silent screams.

Artemis is silent, everyone is silent and it's driving Wally insane.

''He's not dead.'' he repeats again and again, trying to evoke a response, trying to gain some reassurance. Trying to tell if they feel the same. ''He _can't_ be, he - ''

''Would you shut up?'' Artemis has risen out of the couch and is looking at him, glaring at him as if all she wants in her life is to rip his jaw right off its hinges. Like she wants nothing more than for him to just _shut the hell up_. She needs his words to stop because every time he tries to reassure himself that their friend is still alive it only pushes the feeling of the contrary deeper into her gut; it solidifies the fear already gnawing at her spine.

''It's been two days, Wally, statistics say - ''

''I don't give a shit about statistics!'' Wally turns around so fast the kinetic energy alone rips an ornament from a shelf, sending it crashing down to the floor where it splits in many little pieces. The archer and the speedster both watch the shards in quiet contemplation, as if it means something, as if it holds an answer that they need.

''Please, can we...'' M'gann bows her head, then turns her eyes to them with the fiercest determination she can muster. Her eyes burn them with her intent, and the two arguing feel their shoulders sag in shame. ''Can we not do this? Now? Please, I just...'' she bites her lip but cannot stop the trembling. ''I just want to find him. Can we please just focus on_ finding him_? I...''

Conner puts his arms around her in a way that reminds them of a shield and the Martian says no more. Kaldur shakes his head in sorrow, but his stance remains upright and strong. He is torn between his worry as a friend and his anger at himself as a leader. Clearly this has to fall on him, as the leader of the team any misfortune to a member falls on him. Kaldur knows he should have been better, acted sooner, thought quicker, felt braver but he - he cannot ponder such matters at the moment. He cannot let his own self-hatred and guilt come in the way of the true goal. Before they find Robin, dead or alive as it may be, he cannot clutter his mind with self-doubt.

Though he feels he deserves nothing less, Kaldur knows he has to think with his head and not his heart right now.

''We will find him'' he says to no one, everyone, ''We will not rest until our friend is home. This I promise you.''

Wally looks at him like he wants nothing more than to believe, but cannot understand how.

* * *

When the nausea lifts he is mildly aware of the dull ache in the back of his head. Whether the source of the pain is external or internal he cannot determine, but Robin knows that when he wakes up he is not in good shape. He tries to recollect the memories of where he was and where it may have landed him, but before his gaze focuses and the blurry silhouettes turn into solid shapes and colours, he can feel the smell of bleach.

''Awake now, are we?''

There is a laugh that circles around him, bouncing off the walls it hits sharp and clear in his ear. Something about the man's voice makes every cell of his skin crawl, trying to get anywhere that is not in the man's general direction. But Robin is trapped; his muscles flex and tense under leather belts and the more he fidgets the harder they seem to constrict.

''You didn't think I'd get a bird but not a cage to keep it in, hm? Such a pretty thing would just fly away.'' fingers that smell of leather; gloved, he notices - grasp his chin and for a second he is almost overwhelmed. ''I can't have that, you understand, no?''

Robin swalllows down and try to stay whelmed, but there is just something about the man he can't quite escape from. Something deep and haunting, the kind that stays within you for weeks and months and perhaps even years and after several minutes, the touch of the hand lingers still on his skin long after the hand is gone.

''Who -'' he feels the faint taste of metal around his teeth as he speaks.

''Me?'' the man chuckles warmly. ''I'm just a man who likes to go birdwatching. Never did I suspect one would fly into my nest willingly but... a pleasant surprise is always welcomed, don't you agree?''

There is something peculiar about the way he moves; like an old injury still haunts him and Robin subconsciously starts profiling him, a force of habit he can't quite control.

''Tell me, little Robin'' there is a sharp sound of metal against metal, the man's back tells Robin nothing of his intent but it sounds like - oh please, is he really sharpening a weapon? Are they going to torture him? Robin can't believe they're actually going to - ''Did you know that in each hand there are around 48 nerves?''

* * *

He's been beaten around a lot, gotten a few bones broken, limbs dislocated, even had his eye swell shut for almost a week and there was that one unfortunate encounter with a two-faced fellow and a baseball bat and the old wounds still haunt and hurt from time to time, especially in the winter when it's cold but Robin's never - he's never been _tortured_ before. Of course Batman has prepared him for this, should the day ever come he has made sure that every preventive measure has been taken. He's not surprised, actually he expected it to have happened sooner rather than later but he's still - he's still frightened and Robin can't help but feel like he's disappointing someone because really, he's been trained for this, he shouldn't be afraid. The Flying Graysons never feared. He _can't_ be afraid, not when there are so many secrets depending on him right now.

The man walks over to him. His face is hidden in the shadows left by the sharp light of the lamp that shines bright and yellow - like the sun, like Superman when he basks in its mornings rays and _where is Superman_ where is everybody are they safe, why aren't they coming to get -

he hears the sickening sound of something breaking, breaking like the bones of - nononono, no he won't think of that right now, he won't go back to that time and the smell of their blood on the floor, the floor where he'd play with Zitka and the screams, the many horrible screams that were just so loud but not as loud as his and - Robin bites back a whimper but it comes out strangled and the man chuckles at his pain.

''Oh, you've broken a bone before, haven't you, little Robin? It comes with the job, doesn't it?

_Crack._

The long and slender fingers - like spiderlegs, ready to crawl over him and devour him and - Robin tries to breathe, tries to stay calm and focused; remember what Batman told him, remember what he taught him, remember who he is but it hurts so much and Robin can't remember the mantra he was supposed to repeat. He can't remember how he was supposed to go into the trance, away from the pain and sheltered in a blanket of comfortable nothingness because the man is pulling his finger - his broken finger which hurts so much it's as if it is trying to burn itself off and separate from the rest of his body. Robin can't blame it as when the next finger breaks he wants to do the same.

_Craa-ack._

He lets out a gasp but bites back the scream and the sweat is pooling all over his forehead; his mask feels sticky and heavy yet safe at the same time and brief panic washes over Robin as he realizes the man could pull it off at any given second.

''Such marvelous gloves, my boy'' the man tsk-tsks and hums and murmurs to himself as he admires the craftsmanship of every little piece of Robin's costume. From the buckles and the seams to the fabric and the abnormally smooth kevlar and his belt - his utility belt, where is the belt? Never leave home without it, first thing Batman taught him - where is his belt he _wants his damn belt_. He could pick out a birdarang or a smoke bomb and escape or even if he could access the lock pick in his glove he -

the glove slides off and it jars the injured fingers.

This time Robin can't contain his scream and as it slips out the man grins and grunts like a kid having cake. A horrible, repulsive, disgusting little kid that no mother could ever truly love.

The other glove comes off, and soon follows his boots and Robin waits in tense anticipation for the mask to come off as well, his entire body taut and his muscles feel like tearing - he prepares to thrash and bite and lunge as much as the restraints will allow, no, more than that, whatever it takes to protect the idenity he -

''Don't look like that'' the man puts his face in his level and bores his eyes, his tiny, beady little yellow eyes, into Robin's and he smiles; the bastard smiles. ''I won't take a peek, I swear.'' and mockingly he raises a hand to his heart and says ''Scout's honour''

And all Robin wants to do is scream because it makes him think of Clark and where is Clark, where is Bruce Wally Roy where is everyone he - Robin collects himself and tries to remember everything that Batman taught him. Robin is capable of taking care of himself, because Batman taught him to be ready he will _be_ ready and he can get through this. Robin knows he can get through this if he just pulls himself together and -

_Craa-crAck._


	3. Chapter 3

**TW**: Torture

* * *

He hasn't slept for days. At least he thinks it days but he can't be sure because it feels like years right now and he just wants to sleep, he just wants to sleep for god's sake, why won't they let him sleep? Robin is used to pulling all-nighters, used to getting by on three hours, maybe one a night and he's used to drinking lots of energy drinks but he's not used to this - he didn't choose this, they're doing this to him to break his mind, he knows they're trying to make him cave but Robin won't. Robin will soldier on and he won't tell them anything about the League, Batman or his team, he won't tell them about his family, he won't let them, he won't let them know.

''Robin... aren't you tired? Don't your muscles just ache?''

Robin can barely hear him, the ornithologist as he calls himself, over the loud humming of pain and white noise in his head. There is the dull ache of something trying to claw through his skull and Robin can't keep his eyes open, can't keep his legs from shaking and his vision swims in black and blurs, he barely remembers his own name but tries so hard to remember what Batman taught him.

''Come on, little bird. Just tell me, and I'll let you sleep. Just tell me what I want to know and you'll get a nice, warm bed to cosy up in. Clean pajamas, cotton sheets...'' the man caresses his cheek, almost lovingly but Robin sees no love in his rotten, withered eyes. ''I'll even sing you a lullaby.''

Robin just smirks - at least, he thinks it's a smirk but can't really tell as he's starting to lose sensation in his face.

''What, were you born yesterday? Everyone knows who Batman is.''

The ornithologist looks at him good-humoredly.

''You know what I mean, Robin. Tell me who batman really is. What hides beneath the cowl of the caped crusader?''

Robin gives him as solid of a glare as he can, tries to find the blurry shape of the man and focus on it - focus a glare so cold and unforgiving that for a moment he forgets how to feel.

''The man who's going to break every bone in your body when he -''

The slap is unexpected and shocks him silent for a far longer while than it takes for the pain to subside. When Robin fully realizes what has happened he's too surprised to speak. A punch would have been expected, yes, but not a slap. Something so chastising as if the two were having a family banter and - the rage swells and screams because this man is not his family and Robin will be damned if he's going to let himself ever forget that. His real family is out there and he has to protect them - no matter what happens, no matter what this man does to him Robin will never, ever let him get near enough to even smell them.

''Really, Robin, you're disappointing me.''

''Well, don't expect to be appointed anytime soon.''

''I have powerful friends, Robin'' the man's face is stern and taut, every word heavily emphasized it only barely reaches its sticky fingers through the fog in Robin's head. ''Very powerful.''

Robin chuckles.

''I'm supposed to be scared?''

The man grabs his neck with the gloved hand and the smell of leather is nauseating, he can feel the bile crawling in his throat but his stomach is so empty, he hasn't eaten in so long; Robin just wants to collapse and break but he won't let himself, he has to be strong. He can do this.

''I could skin you alive'' the man says slowly, almost affectionately. ''I could skin you alive and have my friends heal you and skin you again and again. I can rip your eyes out and grow them back and it will never end, Robin, it won't end until you tell me what I want to hear''

Robin says nothing and the man sighs.

''Fine. If you enjoy this so much...'' he throws his hands up in resignation, Robin is just glad the smell of his gloves is far away. ''I was going to be nice to you but as they say...'' he gently peels the gloves off as if shedding a second skin and they both watch the things as they are thrown on the floor. ''The gloves are off.''

Robin waits patiently as he returns to his table. It seems like eternities before he returns, the tools are sharp in his hands and Robin is starting to panic - he has to collect himself, has to remember the meditation, has to find his calm place, has to find his center and -

The pain is only as unbearable as it is horrible and every nerve in his body screams in pain as the skin tears. His muscles twitch and move in a way that suggest they are attempting to separate from his bones; his entire being is turning itself inside out and he can't scream - he wants to but he can't, the pain is just too much and as the blood falls thick and sticky down his chest Robin can't remember where he is.

The skin comes off in a long, transparent film of pink and the man holds it in the light like a photo strip. He regards the texture like old memories, gently putting it aside before he returns again. Robin can hear the tearing of flesh and the wet, sickening sound of his blood and his skin and he - he can taste the blood in his mouth and the dry heaves are robbing him off all air as his throat closes up and Robin wants to pass out, wants to go to his happy place but that place is so far away, it's just a never ending carousel of blood and the skvisch skvetch skvisch of his body being disassembled and -

''Oh, my dear little bird...'' the man chuckles, but puts the knife down and if Robin could breathe he'd draw a sigh of relief. It isn't until the man brings a bucket that he smells the urine and he realizes it's coming from him and he's soiled himself because the pain and - the water is colder than anything he's ever experienced ; it rips and tears at his skin and his fresh wound like he's burning from the inside and he can't even feel the man's breath on his skin because it all hurts so much he couldn't ever imagine something as innocent as water hurting this much.

''We'll have to take those pants off, too'' the man mumbles, mostly to himself it seems. When he tugs at the garment Robin can only manage a little twitch of resistance as his body will barely even move, the shock from the water is still crushing him like an anvil and Robin just wants to go home.

''We should dry you off.''

Robin doesn't even listen anymore. He's barely even there and the man just keeps talking and keeps fumbling around at his table with tools and Robin doesn't want to be here. The second he recognizes the battery and the prod he wants to crawl into the wall and disappear. Robin has only been shocked a few times, most of them harmless. The first time he fell into an electric fence, it was nothing horrible but the second time he came too close to Live Wire and it hurt so unbelievably much and everything that can happen to a body that's subjected to an electric current rushes through his head, merciless and unrelenting - Robin briefly curses his brain for knowing too much about these things. Curses it because he knows so much in theory but so little of it in practice - and he's the most experienced of the partners, for heaven's sake. So little of it he's experenced , he's going to experience today and he doesn't want to know, not like this, never like this.

The jolt feels like he's being kicked by hundreds of steel toed boots at once. Every shock jars his body and crushes against his chest, his lungs coil in on themselves and shiver into smoldering lumps of tissue. He's pretty sure he's soiled himself again - he should, at least from what he knows in theory and his brain burns and stings and it's almost as if it is melting and Robin just wants to go home. He doesn't want to be here he doesn't want to be here he just wants to go home, home to Alfred and his cookies, even M'ganns cookies, he swears he'll never decline any of her cookies ever again if he could just go home he'd eat everything she made for him no matter how burnt of singed or on fire it was and the thought of the burning oven makes the smell of his burned skin so sickening and he doesn't know how much more he can take.

The prod hums and sizzles and the man chuckles. The smell of burnt skin is only overpowered by the smell of urine and feces. The man strokes his skin in thought, before a smile splits his mouth open. He disappears out of Robin's view, which is covered in spots of light dancing gently across his retinas. When the man returns he has more water and he pours the ice cold fluid over his body again. It feels more like glass splinters digging into his skin this time, tearing at every little part of him as it seeps into his nose and his armpits. The man seems to walk away and return again, more water as if he has some endless supply and this time he's pouring it on Robin's face he's - Robin thinks he's being goddamn waterboarded like in some stupid movie he can't belive they'd be so cliche but it - it works, he has to give them that.

He tries to fight it with logic, tries to fight the surging fear and the panic that is swallowing him, the itch of dread under his skin and his heart thumping wildy under his ribs he wonders if the man can hear it. He knows he isn't really drowning, the man probably won't let him die because Robin would actually be happy about that; he knows he isn't really dying but he feels like he's drowning over and over and over again and he's fighting for air so hard it's like his lungs are on fire.

''Oh, Robin'' the man laughs. ''How you entertain me.''

A touch on his chest that lingers too long before ungloved fingers press at his wounds; press hard and raw and fierce and it hurts only enough for him to snap out of his shock. But when Robin remembers where he is and what is happening the prod hums and crackles and next thing he knows it's as if someone is trying to kick his spine out of his body. Robin screams and if he could he's pretty sure he would soil himself again but he's empty, completely empty and there's nothing but pain and everything burns and grates within him. The current rushes through his body and back again, before the man laughs.

''Don't worry, Robin. I'll fix you up in no time. Just know that any percieved brain damage is only temporary.'' he crouches down to whisper in his ear and his breath is hot and warm and rotten. ''I have powerful friends, remember?''

There is a hand on his crotch but Robin doesn't have time to panic before a new electric current is shot through his genitals and he almost blacks out. Had the voltage been higher he's sure he would; but the ornithologist won't let him black out, won't let him miss out on this won't let him miss the pain he has to feel it all and his body arches and bends and twists trying to get away from the prod but the man just keeps on going.

''Oh, dear'' the man shakes his head and sighs. ''Your ears... are... you're bleeding. Ah. I ... should patch you up. I wouldn't want you to die, now, would I?'' as the man passes Robin, heading for the door, he ruffles the boy's hair in a fatherly gesture. ''Don't move, I'll be right back.''


	4. Chapter 4

**TW: **Rape

* * *

They tried everything they had but it wasn't enough - nothing is enough to break him because Dick won't give up his family, won't tell them who they are or how to hurt them. They burn and cut him, beat him almost every day. They won't let him eat, won't let him eat and for a while that feels so long he loses track of time when they won't even let him sense anything - Dick can't smell or hear or see, he can only feel what they're doing to him for days and days on end. He can feel the lye on his skin, can feel the cold, soothing feeling of healing - the meta must constantly be in the room because his wounds stop bleeding almost as soon as they appear and he can swear he feels all the skin grow back on his face and Dick's like untouched again and they can go on forever. Dick wonders if he's even still alive or if this is hell, if he's died and this is eternal damnation which he will never escape from.

His father never taught him much Roma when he was still alive, but the little things he said, the little sayings and proverbs and terms of affection are on constant repeat in his mind again and again there to remind him what family is and the importance of keeping family secrets. Never to let the strangers enter never let them understand or know just keep them out get them out get them out of there. He only speaks in carny slang and no one understands a word he's screaming before he can't even scream at all.

Then suddenly all of it just stops and somehow it is even worse than the pain. He hates when they're not doing anything because he can't tell what they're planning, his minid is just a mess of indistinguishable screams - he hears their movements but he can't see for all the blood in his eyes but the light is still bright and yellow and Dick just wants to know why no one is talking, no one is saying anything and he wonders if this is what dying feels like. Dick wonders if they're going to kill him now, if maybe they grew tired of him and as much as he fears the end and never getting to see his friends again, never washing the R-cycle on a warm summer day or playing basketball with Bruce or practicing his quadruple flip - the last living person on Earth who can perform it anymore because - never again go camping with his friends and watch M'gann set fire to ice cream for crying out loud never having Superman pick him up and fly around Gotham to view her majestic, broken beauty as it was meant to be seen he is - proud, happy that he made it all the way through and that they will never know. They will never hurt anyone he loves because Dick stayed strong, Dick did everything he was trained to do and he made it, he's proud of himself, they didn't break him and no one can ever take that away from him and -

''You have such wonderful, blue eyes'' he says as he wipes the blood off the boy ''Such a pretty, young face''

The touch on his skin burns and burns even though it's just a hand, a gloved hand and Dick tries to thrash but he is exhausted he can't move can't even scream he -

''What a shame to let it go to waste, hm?''

Nonono this isn't happening - he never expected thi- no, nononononnonononoNO NO_ NO THIS ISN'T _-

The hands are everywhere and he can't feel anything but the leather against his chest, his skin and there are fingers and they're touching him they're touching him and it hurts even worse than anything, but it hurts more than his body, it hurts his soul, it hurts his mind and heart and he can't let them do this, he doesn't believe he could make it back from something like this, he has to stop them but why can't he move, why can't he scream why can't he -

''N-no!'' his voice breaks and tears on every syllable but he forces the words out through a mouth so dry it feels close to splitting ''No! _No_! NO, GET AWAY FROM ME!''

This was his first time it can't be like this it has to be a bad dream like the ones he has whenever their names come up or the anniversary except so much more horrible it has to be it can't be real no nono this wasn't how it was supposed to _happen_ -

The filth is in his skin and in his marrow, under his tissue in his bones it's eating him alive and Dick has never felt so dirty he just wants to vomit and scream and kill them he wants to break their skulls and get them away get them away from him he's just a child why can't they just let him go _home_ Richard can't take it anymore he - can't find his happy place can't find any place other than the here and the now and he feels everything and he smells it, he hears the sounds he feels him inside where he should never ever be he's not allowed to be there why would he do this why whywhywhy oh godohgod _why_?

''My pretty little Robin... It would be so'' he grunts and he moans and he makes those disgusting little sounds, the bastard is enjoying this he's enjoying this humiliation and abuse he loves it, the bastard loves tearing him apart ''Selfish... of me to... keep you to myself.''

The man touches his cheek and he flinches but can't get far enough away from the man can't get away -

''I know some who would love to share you, my little bird... We could make it a family funtime, no?''

No. Nonononononono _no_. They can't he won't let them they can't why won't they get off him get it off get it off get them off - Like a burn victim he just wants to die from the pain but he can't give up can't give in he has to stay strong he wants the pain to end but it never ends it will never end _it will never end._


	5. Chapter 5

It's been two weeks when he hears it. Or, feels it, rather. When J'onn glides over the area there is as if a shield is taken down, momentarily a glitch in their defensive systems and it hits him so hard it almost knocks him out of the sky. The screaming is loud and brutal but to his ears there is only silence; meanwhile his mind is being flooded with pain and sorrow and disgust, regret and so much pain J'onn has never felt anything like this. All the times the League has gone out to stop cattrophes, saving people from floods and storms and galactic threats the pain has never been this potent, the screams were never this loud and he'd rather change this feeling for thousands of voices because he can't stand the pain he has to close the mind link - no, he can't close it because they'll lose him, they're so close he can feel him, he has to find him, can't let go before he finds him.

''He is still alive'' J'onn's voice carries through the intercom because he's too overwhelmed, too overpowered to tell them telepathically, ''Somebody, please, hurry. I - I do not know for how much longer I can...''

''J'onn?'' Superman appears out of nowhere and there is something hard, something unfamiliar and frightening with his face ''J'onn, can you hear him? Is he..?''

''He is alive'' the Martian Manhunter whispers, grasping his head it's hard to know what sensation is in his mind and what is outside of it. ''But only... barely, you have to hurry, I can't... I can't keep the link up for much longer''

Superman wastes no time darting through the sky and he crashes through the roof like a meteor, like a guardian angel he crashes through every room and wall until he finds him. Until he sees the man with the gloves and his comrades. Before the last son of Krypton sees the blood and the horror and he suddenly stops thinking.

It only takes a minute before more League members arrive; but a minute is all Clark needs to ruin the place. It takes five of them to hold him back, hold him back before he kills someone, before he snaps their necks in his bare hands, before he breaks every last son of a -

''Get him home.''

Bruce's eyes are hidden behind the cowl but his glare hits Clark right where it hurts and it's all it takes for the energy to leave him. The fury drains but leaves a seething, smoldering anger in the pit of his gut and he feels sick all of a sudden.

''Are you -''

''He needs medical attention. You're the fastest flyer.'' when he sees Clark open his mouth, trying to say something when they don't have time to talk, they need to act, they need to go, Bruce merely snarls. ''Go.''

And Superman is gone so quickly they barely see him leave; Robin is gone with him and left are only the horrible, horrible men and a League of omnipotent people trying as hard as they can not to cross the line.

* * *

They can't see him for a couple of days. Understandable; he needs medical attention. They're happy he's returning at all - they already waited so long, what was another day or two?

But they're almost out of their skin, almost crawling the walls and gnawing at the ceiling, anxious to hear the announcement of the teleporter. When the words ''Robin - B01'' ring through the speakers, they draw a collective sigh of relief. Closely followed is the announcement of _''Batman - 02, Superman - 01, Martian Manhunter - 07''_ and the four forms emerge from the portal. The silence is heavy and crushing as they enter the room and all protégés stare at them in silent expectation.

Batman looks pale, paler than usual - grey, almost transparent - he doesn't seem to have slept much at all. Superman and Martian Manhunter are stern, sorrowful but with their backs straight as they try to look brave. They can relax now, they can calm down because Robin is home and everything is fine, so why doesn't anything feel fine at all? Why does it all feel so wrong? Wally can't put his finger on it but there is just something off about all of this, much like a thorn the size of a fist in his side but he doesn't spend more thought on it the moment Robin steps out from behind Batman's form.

M'gann is close to tears and only barely keeps them to small pools in the corners of her eyes as she leaps through the room to embrace him in a firm, but gentle, hug.

''Oh, Robin I'm so glad you're home I didn't think I'd ever see you again I'm so glad you're back I was so worried -'' is all they can discern before her ramblings carry over to the Martian language and no one understands a word, but they can guess she's saying what they're all thinking.

When Robin flinches away from her she only looks hurt for a second; her face morhps into an expression of guilt and she jolts away from him as if she fears she will hurt him.

''I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking! I didn't mean to startle you, I'm sorry, I'm just so glad I -'' she smiles, awkwardly. ''I - I made cookies!''

Robin smiles at her and there is something so inexplicably wrong with it.

''Awesome. I've been craving cookies for weeks.''

The words are seemingly innocent but the implication that lingers with them makes their guts clench. Superboy looks angry when he sees how neauseated M'gann really looks, but one glance at Robin and his anger sinks. He looks at Superman, right in the eyes as the Man of Steel no longer can ignore him. The silent quesiton _''why, why didn't you let me kill them why can't I hurt them like they hurt my friend why do you get to hurt them why can't I - ''_ hangs between them for the small moment it takes before Clark looks away.

''Are you... are you...'' Artemis can't finish the sentence because she doesn't know what to say. Anything she thinks of just sounds stupid and obvious but she can't just be silent.

''My head feels like cement, but they say I'm fine. I won't even scar.''

Wally doesn't want him to smile like that. It isn't Robin, Robin wouldn't smile like that there's no joy in it there's only something dead dead dead and rotten and Wally just wants his best friend back. He wants to vomit, wants to run around the Earth a thousand times because it feels so wrong - He was going to ask him out that day, right before they had to leave for the mission but there was no time to ask and then it all went wrong and Wally was supposed to ask him to dinner - nothing fancy, just a quick grab at the closest McD before they would hit the arcade but he wasn't on time didn't have time and Wally wishes he could have done something and it's all his fault. He's a terrible, terrible best friend, what kind of friend can't even save someone from such - Wally takes a shaky breath and walks over to Robin. The youngest teen visibly tenses under his cloak and it hurts, it hurts because Wally knows he deserves that he deserves the fear he deserves it for being so useless.

''Rob... I'm...''

Robin meets his gaze, the mask is clean and his face is shiny and healthy and he looks normal, like nothing ever happened, like no one ever laid a hand on him. There are no bruises, no wounds or stitches or swellings and yet Wally can't help but feel like something is broken.

''KF, don't sweat it. You guys... You did what you could, alright? I'm just glad you all made it out. And I'm back now so please... stop it with the pouty faces, okay?'' he crosses his arms with a playful smirk but there is nothing mirthful about it. ''C'mon guys. This is the worst welcome home party ever.''

They look at him in silent awe, not really knowing if he was just joking or how to react and Conner can't take it, he needs to go somewhere, he needs to break something, needs to punch and hurt and destroy something. So he leaves, quickly, his steps are heavy and wide and Robin looks confused and wonders if it was something he said.

''Aw, Con didn't take me seriously, did he?''

Wally raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

''Dude, he's... are... you were gone for two weeks, Rob. Two weeks. Do you have any idea how worried we were?!''

Robin doesn't seem to get it, doesn't seem to understand because he just keeps smiling and Wally wants him to stop.

''C'mon, guys. I'm home now. It's fine.''

Kaldur steps up, noticing it is becoming much too tense, and keeping his distance as not to make Robin uncomfortable - he has read about trauma victims, read about the aftermath and decides it is better to keep his distance and be gentle - he nods at him.

''Robin, I think we are all just very... tired. We are all very happy to have you home and I... I am sorry, for failing you. As the leader I -''

Robin rolls his eyes.

''Give it a rest, Kal. You blame yourself too much.''

Kaldur doesn't reply, just looks at him grimly. Such a typical thing of Robin to say; but of course Aqualad blames himself. How could he not? He is certain that had the roles been reversed, Robin would feel the same. He would have given anything for it to have been him, and not Robin, anything in the world. But he cannot change the past, and instead has to focus on making the now and the tomorrow a better place. For all of them. He's just not sure of how to even do that.

''Hey, how 'bout those cookies, eh?'' Wally smiles half-heartedly at M'gann who lits up with new and sudden enthusiasm.

''Sure! I - they are in the kitchen, come with me! Uncle J'onn and I made lemonade!''

Martian Manhunter narrows his eyes in tired frustration as he recalls the disastruous event of helping her in the kitchen - to take her mind off of everything, she was so on edge and J'onn had wanted to do anything he could to ease her worry. The lemonade had almost lost them half the kitchen but at the end of the day it had all been fine. Just like this would be; like he would try with all his might to make it be. Not just for Robin, but for his niece, for their friends. J'onn had to remain hopeful.

''Sounds amazing, sugarcake!'' Wally puts his arm around her shoulders and M'gann is briefly thankful Conner is not there to see it; his jealousy would not be well handled in his current state of mind.

''Race you there?'' Robin says, then as an afterhought he adds, ''Twinkletoes''

Wally's eyes grow and narrow in irritation, huffing at the nickname he gives Robin a tentative smile.

''Got it, Birdbrain''

Because maybe if he can keep trying, everything will be normal again. Maybe he's just imagining the tension and the thick, sticky film that covers his skin and maybe, just maybe if he tries to make Robin smile - genuinly smile - it will be alright again.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything is back to normal almost instantly and it's the silence that's really getting to him. It's not just Wally, the others see it too; Robin smiles and teases and flips around like normal. Too normal. Wally doesn't have a lot of torture victim experience but he's read enough to know that a trauma like that isn't something you just brush off. He watches Robin secretely, from the corner of his eye, but the boy never turns his back on anyone, never leaves himself unguarded, always watching, listening and anticipating - Wally hovers around him just to keep an eye on him. It feels wrong because in a way it's almost like they're more traumatised by this than Robin himself - and it's weird, it's wrong because Robin should be the one crying but instead it's M'gann who can't sleep unless Conner comforts her and it's Artemis who's too nauseated to eat breakfast and Kaldur is the one silently brooding to himself. Wally is the one with the ants underneath his skin and this is wrong.

He knows he should be happy, knows he should be grateful because Robin is smiling and Robin is talking and moving freely. He doesn't limp nor sag his shoulders; the only small evidence Wally has seen of the experience is the constant trembling of his hands. It's in the kitchen when Robin is preparing some hot chocolate - M'gann is off to buy marshmallows because Wally ate them all last night when he couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking - and it's so bad he almost drops the cup twice. Wally wants to say something but doesn't know exactly what that would be.

It's okay? It's alright? Everything will be fine you were jus tortured for two weeks, these things happen, it's normal, we'll get over it? No words can convey what he feels because Wally doesn't even know how he feels. Except that he misses him, he misses Robin because Robin isn't there but at the same time Robin is still the same he always was but it feels like he's an impostor, a doppelgänger who lives in Robin's body and maybe Wally is the one going insane and none of this is really happening.

Batman said to take it easy. Well, he didn't say it as much as he glared it, but his intention was clear. Robin had a rough time, Robin was still jumpy and nervous and don't touch him, just give him some space. They didn't know what had happened, or if they did they wouldn't say; all they had revealed was that Robin had been tortured - ohgodohgodhgod - for weeks but he had no injuries, he had no physical evidence of anything except the last thing they did - what was the last ting they did? No one knew, because no one would tell them ,Wally didn't know - and there had been a meta in the group. A metahuman with the ability to heal any injury except death - Robin wasn't dead, he hadn't died, only nearly, barely, he was still alive and he was so thankful because Robin was still there.

''KF?'' Robin waves his hand in front of Wally as the kid zones out; Wally seems to forget for a moment that he's even there.

''Huh?''

''Dude, spaced out on me there.'' he purses his lips in what looks like worry. Why is he worried what does he have to worry about can't he see Wally is the one who should be worried he - ''You okay?''

''I'm fine'' Wally doesn't even believe himself but Robin says nothing of the clear strain in his voice.

''You want some hot chocolate?''

Wally casts a glance at the many stains on the kitchen counter, stains becaue Robin can't stop trembling, can't stop that small little tremor going through his body as if he's not even aware of it or maybe he's just suppressing it, maybe this is just the tip of the ice-berg maybe he -

''Rob.'' Wally casts a quick look around. ''Dick.''

The dark haired teen's face tightens at the mention of his name, his lips a thin line that reveals nothing. Wally draws a hand through his hair.

''Are you... are... You're okay, right?''

''Of course I am, Wally'' he arches a brow and the disbelief looks genuine. ''Why wouldn't I be?''

''Dude, Rob... You can't... are you serious?'' Wally rubs his eyes but the tiredness won't go away. ''You've been... Robin, we heard what... We know they tortured you, we -''

Robin's face is shadowed in a sudden grimness, and something hard and cold switches on as Robin looks succumbed in anger. Sealed off, he's sealing off from Wally who loves him in so many ways it's not fair of him to look at Wally like that why is he -

''Wally, I'm fom Gotham. I'm used to this. C'mon, you think I haven't been beaten around before?''

Wally doesn't answer. There are too many things he wants to say, too many angry things and he doesn't want to fight with him. He wants to hold him and tell him it's fine it's good and alright because Wally's here and he's sorry he let them take him and he misses him and everything is going to be alright because Wally's here for him. But Wally doesn't say anything.

''Dick, are you - '' Wally reaches out a hand that has Robin flinch back so hard the beverage spills out on the floor; Wally can only look at him sadly as his best friend - as his more-than-that - shies away from him as if Wally was something large and mean and out to hurt him. Wally would never hurt him, so why is Robin backing away from him why is he pushing back against the wall why is he looking at him like that?

Robin clears his throat and straightens out his clothes, he's in civvies but the mask is still on - it hasn't come off since he got home - and looks away.

''I have to... to go... I have to practice my kick.''

And with nothing more Robin leaves. Leaves Wally alone in the kitchen and there's such a mess everywhere and in his head a thousand thoughts are swirling and he has to sit down because he can't breathe and - Wally just wants to know what to do.

* * *

Bruce decides to pick him up after his weekend at the mountain - because it feels safer, because he doesn't want him on the R-cycle right now, because Clark can't fly him everywhere like a charity case - because Bruce just wants to spend some time with his ward. Robin welcomes the ride home; he hasn't been in the Batmobile for weeks and he's missed it and the way the motor hums. The glimmer of the dashboard and the way the lights flash by the window and how fast it is, it almost feels like flying even when they'r not and - and he's missed Bruce so much he still can't fully understand he's really there.

Dick doesn't do more but enter the seat when it hits him - the smell is pugnant and strong to a point where it feels like it's strangling him. Dick hadn't thought about the seats, hadn't thought about the leather hadn't thought that it would be a problem but suddenly he has to vomit and Bruce seems to see it in his body language because the man has pulled over in the nick of time. Robin throws the door open and hurtles himself out into the ditch, where his stomach is doing it's best to evacuate his body; he swears it feels like it's crawling up his throat.

Batman waits patiently for the vomiting to stop but as the minutes go by his grip on the steering wheel gets harder.

When Robin is done he lingers on the ground; doesn't want to go back into the car doesn't want to sit down and smell it doesn't know if he can handle the smell because it just brings it back it brings it all back and Robin doesn't want to _deal_ with it - not right now not ever maybe tomorrow when he's stronger but not right now please just not right now -

Batman is by his side silently, and Robin wonders how off his game he really is if he couldn't even notice the man approaching and it scares him.

''Is everything...?'' Bruce doesn't know how to finish the sentence. Thankfully Robin is too quick to respond for it to matter.

''I'm fine. I just... must've eaten something bad.''

Bruce doesn't believe him, he knows he doesn't believe him but Robin wants to pretend for as long a he can. Wants to ignore the truth for as long as possible because maybe if they don't speak about it eventually it will go away.

''I don't want to get back into the 'mobile.'' Dick says then, almost guiltily, as if he's just insulted the other.

Bruce frowns but nevertheless gets his communicator on.

''Alfred, I need you to get the limousine and -''

''No'' Dick says then. ''Not that one either.'' Leather interior and mahogany dashboard and everything tasteful but the smell - it will be horrible and Dick can't understand why he's being so silly - ''I ... Maybe I should find another way back. I could... Get the R-cycle...''

''You're in no condition to drive.''

He needs to get into the Batmobile, needs to get into the seats - this is ridiculous, is he supposed to never ride the car again? Is he supposed to walk everywhere or always rely on his bike? What a great dynamic duo if they can't even travel together and - Dick stands up and takes a breath, drawing his hands over his face and through his hair he tries to calm his stomach down.

''Never mind'' Bruce says to Alfred over the comlink and starts to walk back to the car. All the while he is casting glances at his ward, suspicious glances as Robin won't stop twitching and tremblig like he's had too much caffeine. When Batman has gotten into his seat several minutes pass by when Robin is just standing there, staring at the door on the passenger side.

''Robin, get in the car''

He almost wants to punch himself at the way Robin flinches, knows that he has to understand that Robin needs time but it's 3 am and they're in the middle of nowhere and they can't just stand by the side of the road forever. They need to get home.

Robin takes a deep breath and when he finally enters the Batmobile it is with tightly closed eyes. Batman watches him warily but soon begins to drive. When Robin is near hyperventilating again, sweaty and pale, Batman reaches into a compartment and hands him a paper bag. Robin doesn't speak just grabs it and almost instantly , like he's been waiting for an okay, he vomits even more than he thought was possible given the little food he's actually managd to eat today. His throat is raw and burning and his stomach feels close to tearing, imploding on itself but the vomit and eventually bile won't stop coming and the smell just gets worse and worse because he's right there, the leather is digging into his nostrils and suddenly it's getting hard to see.

Bruce just wants to do something, pat him on the back, put an arm around him, hug him, just for a little while. It's unwise to touch him right now but he doesn't know what else to do and that little uncerainty is strangling him. He always knows everything but this time when he rally needs it, his mind is as blank as it is dark.

''I'm sorry'' the words are small and unstable and he almost misses them completely.

''Excuse me?''

''I'm - I'm sorry'' Dick says between the dry heaves and it's almost like he's afraid to look at Bruce. ''I'm so sorry I should have been better, I'm sorry I got caught, even though you trained me not to get caught. I was stupid and I failed you I'm so sorry I couldn't - I couldn't remember the mantra, couldn't go into the trance, I couldn't remember the training and I am so sorry, Bruce, I -''

Bruce bites his teeth down hard before he answers.

''Dick. What do I always tell you?''

Dick doesn't want to look at him so he just shrugs at his own stomach contents. They are more pleasant to look at and he can't bear it can't face it can't take the disappointment that's surely in his eyes and he can't handle knowing that he let him down like that.

''The most important thing is to know how to adapt. It doesn't matter how well you plan the world because the world doesn't care. Not getting captured is always the goal but that can't always happen. Sometimes plans backfire and we find ourselves in a tight spot and that is when we adapt. If we can't do that, we are as good as dead and you... you adapted, Dick.'' Bruce looks at him from the corner of his eye as Dick looks paler than just a moment ago. ''You adapted and you made it and that is all I can ever ask of you.''

Dick wants to cry but can't let himself - Bruce doesn't need to see him so weak and pathetic and stupid and he should just shake it off already, snap out and take it like a hero but his head won't stop spinning and he just feels like such a useless, failure and shame.

''Dick, I'm... '' Proud of you? Relieved you're alive? Worried? He needs him to know that he isn't angry with him, needs him to know that he isn't disappointed but the words seem to die before they can roll across his tongue. ''I'm sorry.''

Dick looks at him for the first time during the ride now and his eyes are confused.

''For what?''

''I shouldn't have let this happen. I... Maybe...'' Bruce sighs. ''Maybe you shouldn't be Robin anymore.''

Dick believes that for a moment his entire body stops, because the world seems to spin faster and faster like a ride he can't stay on; he's the only one to whom nothing makes sense and Dick just wants to scream until his throat collapses.

''No. Nononononnono.. Bruce, I need this. Gotham needs me. Gotham needs us. You can't... you can't fire me like that!''

''I'm _not_ firing you, I'm just... Dick, you almost _died_, you... You're just a boy and it was stupid of me to even let you out in the first place. '' Stupid of him to take his personal quest for vengeance out on a boy, stupid and selfish of him to let him suffer for pain he did not cause and most of all, stupid to believe what's right for him would be right for a child. ''You're not safe, Dick. This isn't right.''

Dick glares at him with such intensity Bruce feels it before he sees it.

''No. No, you don't get to do that! Damn it, Bruce, I need this! I - what if it happens to someone else? Huh? What if it happens to Wally or even Superman? What if it happens to _you_? No, we don't get to do that. Of course it's dangerous, of course bad things happen but does that mean you shy away from what's right because you're afraid of what might go wrong? The Batman I know wouldn't think like that, he'd make sure it never happened to anyone else and what if it does, Bruce? What if it happens to someone else and I'm not there to save them and - I can't let it happen again, Bruce. Being Robin is the only thing... only thing that makes sense, that feels right anymore and you... you can't _do that _to me.''

Because if he's not Robin he's just a victim and he never ever wants to be a victim. Because Robin is all that makes it feel better, it's all he has left to suppress the guilt. If he can help people maybe he can make up for being such a failure, maybe he can redeem himself and maybe he won't feel like such a disappointment anymore. Maybe if Dick can get it right next time, maybe he can be salvaged and maybe if he can help someone else he can help himself and everything will be alright and Dick just needs to feel like he still amounts to something.

He doesn't know how to even breathe without Robin because Robin is as much a part of him as Dick Grayson is, the only thing to even get him out of bed anymore is knowing that he can be by Bruce's side and together they can help people and if he doesn't even have that - then he's more lost than he thought.

Bruce's face is hard and almost shameful. He doesn't reply for a very long while and when he does it's with the most exhaustion he has ever let on.

''I know that it means... _what_ it means to you. I'm just... '' Scared. Maybe even terrified. ''I don't want anything to happen to you and...''

And nothing, because Bruce doesn't know what he can possibly say to make it all right again.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry I haven't updated according to the weekly schedule! Real life has been attacking me from every corner. As a peace offering, I'll be updating twice today to make up for the uh... two weeks I've been MIA.

**TW: **No outright triggers here, I don't think. Though a flash back appears near the end I think it's pretty vanilla.

* * *

Bruce notices him even before he makes his appearance known, but J'onn knows that. It is probably superfluous of him to even greet him because from the second he set foot in the Batcave, Bruce knew. J'onn is sure the man understands very well what's on his mind, too; one needn't be a mind-reader for that. Despite that, J'onn still clears his throat and still says a rustling, deep ''Good evening'' - because it's the polite thing to do.

''Have you assessed the situation?'' is Bruce's way of saying Good evening to you, too, nice of you to drop by. But J'onn knows that so he lets the abbrasive impoliteness slide. As he always does.

''There were not many people who knew'' J'onn sighs as he cannot figure out how to phrase the information; does not know if he wants to phrase it at all. ''The man... behind the torture, the ornithologist as he calls himself, he knew, of course. His mind is taken care of. Zatara was very helpful.''

''You got everything?''

''Yes.''

''All of it?''

''... yes.''

Bruce glares at him.

''Are you sure?''

J'onn suppresses a sigh and instead decides to nod firmly.

''Yes. He is... what is the phrase? Clean as a whistle?''

Bruce snorts irritably.

''Who else?''

''The metahuman, she goes by the name of - ''

''Primrose. Yes.''

''... and the men who were... who...'' J'onn stops and by the look on his face he doesn't look intent on finishing the sentence. But he doesn't have to, Bruce already knows. Of course he knows.

''Who assaulted him.'' he says coldly, matter-of-factly, but there is a hidden hatred in his voice which feels cold to the telepath. ''And they are taken care of?''

''Everyone. I erased all memory of his identity. We have done thorough examinations and no one else seems to know.''

''Seems to?''

This time J'onn can't help but sigh. Loudly.

''Batman, I understand that this is very personal for you but -''

''But what, J'onn?''

''You need to trust us.''

Not until after the words come out does he realize what a futile request it is. Batman trusting anyone, an alien especially, is as absurd as it is stupid. Still, J'onn doesn't know what else to say to ease the man's worries. There is nothing to say, really.

''How did you adapt to the school?'' Bruce says instead.

''It was... an interesting experience. It was very educational, pardon the pun.''

Bruce's face is hard for a moment, as if his mind is deep in conflict. Not that J'onn would know; his mental walls are nearly impossible to break through and he wants to respect his friend's privacy.

''Thank you.'' Bruce says, flatly but the Martian knows that he means it. ''You saved me a lot of trouble of coming up with an excuse for Robin's absence.''

''It is fine, I was just glad to help. Although I must say I did not appreciate his... math homework. I hope I did not cause any permanent damage on his grades.''

Bruce cocks a brow but decides not to dwell on it. There are more important things than Dick's grades; keeping the press oblivious is worth whatever B he may recieve. Not that it's very likely; his teachers love him and two bad weeks in math can probably be ignored. J'onn has agreed to play the role until Robin feels ready to return to his school, which could be never or tomorrow - Bruce doesn't want to push it, doesn't want to push him after everything and he knows he's not the most emotionally available person and Bruce, for all his knowledge, training and research is, for the one time when it really matters, completely lost.

''There is another... thing'' the Martian says when it is obvious that Bruce won't say anything more. Bruce only looks at him inquiringly and awaits a continuation of the sentence. J'onn furrows his brow and looks away, not sure of how to put it. ''There has... I have detected a wall in his mind.''

''A wall?''

''Yes'' he nods. ''A... mental proteciton, a shield, so to speak. As if there is something in his mind that he has sealed off. Like...'' he purses his lips as he searches for the right words. ''Like putting something in a box and locking it away deep in a closet.''

Bruce sighs, almost inaudibly but J'onn notices. He says nothing but he notices.

''He isn't dealing with it'' Bruce says more as a statement than a question. Because he knows, had his suspicions, already noticed that Dick wasn't coping in the way he should, wasn't reacting predictably and Bruce knows but he doesn't know what to do. He knows a lot of things but none of them are beneficial and it makes him feel so very useless.

''No. He is... ignoring it.'' J'onn shakes his head. ''I do not know for how long this wall will last; it is a strong one, thanks to you, I would imagine.''

He's not entirely certain but it almost looks as if Bruce is - hurt, by the statement and J'onn suddenly feels incredibly guilty. For what he does not really know.

''It will crumble, with time'' the Martian continues on. ''I cannot tell at the moment how hard it will crash when it does, but... I would suggest he seeks counceling. He is... bottling?'' Bruce nods. ''Bottling things up. They will emerge eventually. When it does he... he needs you to be there.'' Bruce doesn't answer, doesn't look at him as instead his gaze is fixed on the floor; but he sees not the floor nor the dust on it, he sees only failure. Failure from him as a mentor, as a guardian, as a father. Because Bruce knows that despite logic, despite everyone's kind words that this falls on him. ''He needs us to be there. Batman, are you listening?''

''Yes.''

Martian Manhunter watches him in grim contemplation for a moment, before his shoulders tense and his voice tightens.

''Have you told them?''

Bruce's face is hard and cold and angry and J'onn knows he should probably not be asking at this time, when Batman is still upset, when they're all still afraid and angry and devastated but they need to be professional. They need to keep calm and do as much damage control as they can. Had it been a perfect world he would not need to ask the question, but the world is as imperfect as it is cruel and he has to make sure things are as well as they can be.

''No.'' Bruce pushes out the words like they are glass on his tongue. ''Neither shall any of you.''

''It could be ... It is my strong opinion that they need to know. They are a team and as such -''

''It is none of their business what happened to him. They know what they need to know and nothing more.''

''It could be crucial in the field. What if something happens, what if something triggers him and - ''

''I know Robin and I know the team. They do not need to know so they will not know until I say differently.''

J'onn sighs, but decides that the mentor knows the protégé the best. Had it been M'gann he is sure he would react the same. Though he cannot know because he isn't in the same position and he is thankful in so many more ways than he can fully understand because if this had happened to M'gann he does not know what he would have done. And it is with respect and, perhaps even admiration, that he looks at Bruce before he decides he has said what he came to say.

When the Martian Manhunter turns around to leave, Bruce doesn't even say goodbye. But he doesn't have to; J'onn knows him well enough to see when it is written in his movements and, as always, he simply lets it be.

* * *

The boy doesn't sleep much, anymore. Not that he ever really did; he and master Bruce always shared the same, strange habits. He knows bats are nocturnal but the amount of wakeness lately has been disturbing. The young master is sluggish and slow, ailed by the sleep deprivation yet in no inclination to remedy it. Alfred does not say anything, he knows it is not in his place but he... he wishes for something, something to ease the young boy's worries. If only just a little.

It is the fifth night when he hears the shower go off again, almost as on cue. The young master doesn't sleep, only spends hours in the shower so that when master Bruce gets up and showers for work there is but a minute of warm water left. But master Bruce says nothing of it, he merely showers in the ice cold water and gets dressed like it is normal of him to do.

It is five a.m and Alfred cannot sleep because the young master cannot sleep and, though he has gotten used to the strangeness of the Wayne's last living son, the newest member of their family is still capable of worrying him at times when he is taking after his guardian a tad too much. Alfred cannot keep at ease tonight and instead he bakes some scones for the young master. Not that he has been eating anything lately, and Alfred knows the young ward has been vomiting - even Bruce doesn't know it happens as much as it does - and he's getting worried. But he has not mentioned it, has decided to leave the boy be and wait for him. He trusts that the young master will know when he needs him and when the time comes, Alfred will be right there.

When Dick enters the kitchen later, the scones are just out of the oven and he looks mildly surprised to see Alfred there.

''Alfie, why're you still up?'' he says groggily, his body dragging him towards sleep but his mind as awake and on edge as ever.

''I figured you might be hungry at this hour, master Dick. Would you care for a scone?''

Dick gives him a lopsided grin, but it looks painful more than joyful. With a small little sigh he sits down by the kitchen bar, plopped up on the same stool as he always chooses; Alfred fondly remember the first weeks when he came to stay with the family. Just like now he couldn't sleep, but he would be awake in the gym for hours and hours and eventually Alfred got tired of worrying. So he got up and made it a habit to bake some scones for him. Just like now Dick had been surprised, but had accepted the quiet comfort nevertheless. Alfred knew it was different now, it was a wound that hurt differently, but he decided he would try and if nothing else, the boy would at least get something to eat.

The boy sits silent as he smears some marmalade on the scone. He spreads the condiment for almost five minutes, watching the knife as if hypnotized.

''Master Dick, I do believe you have an ample amount of marmalade already. There is no need to wear the knife out.''

Dick looks at him shyly underneath his bangs and, almost embarrassed, puts the knife back. Th silence continues as Alfred pours him some tea and Dick just keeps staring at the scone, not looking intent on actually eating it. Holding back a sigh the butler sits down and prepares one for himself, the tea is steaming and -

''So, as you see, it wasn't my fault that they withdrew my medical license. People just can't accept a true genius, you know? Sure, I may be a bit eccentric about my methods but... clearly, they weilded results, so why treat me so unfairly?''

The man has been talking incessantly for hours and he knows he should take all the information in as it can prove useful later, but honestly he's not so sure there will even be a later. Robin - well, Dick now, he supposes - is trying hard to keep hope alive but the more time that stretches and the more blood he loses that objective is proving hard to uphold. He feels fine, physically, but his mind is tired and worn and he feels unable to even focus briefly. He's drifting in and out of conciousness but never enough to disappear completely. Primrose keeps healing him - his right eye has been poked and stabbed and prodded and opened so many times he's lost count now - and every time he feels like death is finally nearing him, she heals him up again.

''Enough talking about me, let's hear about you! Who are your friends? Where do they go to school?'' /i -

''Master Dick?''

Bach is still playing in the background and on more than one occasion the man has walked in rhythm, like he wants to dance but doesn't have the time. The woman sits on a chair by the record player, watching them in detached indifference. Dick panics to and fro about his mask, but since he's not really expecting to survive this he supposes it doesn't matter. The man doesn't seem to recognize his face, doesn't seem to realize he has a millionare ward at his disposal so for the moment Bruce's secret is safe. The only thing important right now is to keep Bruce safe.

''Rooobiiiin'' the man says in a sing-song voice. ''I'm getting very impatient with you. You have to give me something soon or I am going to be very annoyed.''

''Richard.''

Dick snaps his eyes up to the butler like he forgot he was even there and for a moment he looks confused; it takes a while before he recognizes the kitchen counters and the smell of his tea and Dick can't breathe because -

''Go to hell'' Dick says flatly.

''Tsk, tsk'' the ornithologist shakes his head. ''I was afraid you'd say that.''

He holds a little vial gently in his hands, turning it over a few times before he lets it hover over Dick's face.

''Robin. Please. I don't want to hurt you.''

- the images surge into his mind like cold water in a leaking basement and Dick is having a hard time remembering where he is, is having a hard time holding on to reality as it blends and melds into fantasy and he forgets for a while what is real and suddenly it's like he's back again and Alfred morphs into someone else, his kind, dignified face twists into something crueler, something ugly and -

Dick turns his head away and closes his eyes, says nothing - hoping that maybe if he pretends the man isn't there eventually he will go away. The man tips the vial only minimally, enough for one little drop to fall out and land on his cheek. It burns almost instantly and is powerful enough to corrode all through to his muscle. Dick bites back the scream - probably wouldn't even know how to scream at this point - and a blinding, mind-numbing pain scorches through his jaw.

''Last chance, boy. Who are they?''

Alfred puts a hand on his and Dick locks down almost immediately, his eyes are so closely shut he can see spots behind his eyelids and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts it hurts and -

Dick spits at him again, though the gob is small and pathetic as his mouth is dry as sandpaper. The man's eyes glimmer and suddenly there is something so inhuman in them, it's as if all his emotions have fled him.

The man shakes his head and, almost sadly, tips the vial over. -

and Dick is screaming and he doesn't know when he landed on the floor and he doesn't feel the warm tiles he just feels the coldness of the operating table and the burning of his face melting away - eaten eaten corroded away - and the restraints are hard and closing in on him and he can't breahe and someone is touching him and Dick just wants to get away -

''Master Richard, please. Calm down. Remember to breathe. Breathe, Richard!''

And Dick does as he says and sucks in the air like he's never breathed before and for a moment his head stands on mute. When his breathing slows down and the touch finally gets off him the kitchen ceiling swims back into his vision - in and out like a bad reception on an old TV and - and Dick is sweating and shaking and suddenly he wants to vomit again.

Alfred looks at him quietly, but something sad and something awful stirs in his gut as he watches the closest thing he has to a grandson squirm and shake and stumble on his own breaths - at least he's stopped screaming and Alfred is briefly grateful that master Bruce is out on patrol because he does not doubt the man's clumsy attempts at fatherhood would be very unhelpful at the moment.

And Dick just looks around like a frightened animal released into the wild, expecting the poachers to attack him the moment he feels safe, the moment he lets his guard down and Dick doesn't understand what's happening and he just wants to curl into a ball and disappear.

''I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry'' he keeps repeating like it's the only thing that keeps him in touch with here he is, and Alfred doesn't know what he's seeing or what he is sorry for, but he has seen enough trauma victims in his time at the British intelligence services to know that it doesn't matter. No matter what Richard sees Alfred can't begin to understand it, so he merely remembers his training - integrated so deeply within him it is almost like breathing - and attempts to calm the boy down.

It takes him many minutes, maybe even an hour, before Dick is finally calm and not looking pale as a sheet. He is still trembling when he gets up on his feet and his head is bowed in deep embarrassment; his eyes detached as he is still not quite with him. Dick tries not to get lost inside his own head but there is so much noise and suddenly he feels so filthy - he doesn't even look at Alfred before he runs out of the kitchen and off to his room.

Alfred hears the whining of the pipes and knows that the shower is on again. Hears the sound of vomiting and feels the dread which hangs thick and potent in the air. The butler sighs and shakes his head, but knows there is nothing more that he can do. Instead he cleans the table and throws the two uneaten scones away; bags the others for breakfast and even as he's washing the cups his hands are shaking.


	8. Chapter 8

The anger is clearly written on their faces and it's hard to miss it, he just can't understand why they're so angry. Everyone is looking at him like he just did something horrible but he just did what they always do. He went on the mission and he beat up the bad guys and in the end they saved the day. So he doesn't understand why Artemis' arms are crossed or Kaldur's jaw is tense, why M'gann isn't looking at him, why Conner's fists are shaking in barely contained fury or why Wally is fidgeting so much more than usual.

It had seemed like the right thing to do at first; but the more time that elapsed the more uncertain they became. The first mission is normal, except maybe something is wrong, something they can't really put their finger on but it is there and it is evident, if yet ambiguous. They say nothing of Robin's kicks that hit just an inch too low and his punches that crush one too many bones; they can accept it , for the moment. He is not killing or crippling anyone and he's bound to have some pent up rage so for a while they let it slide. But the second mission gets worse, and Robin lunges into battle before Kaldur can even say the word. He throws himself into the situation of armed, dangerous, dangerous men and he doesn't even seem to care.

''C'mon guys, I just fought a bad guy'' Robin says and within seconds Wally is glaring accusingly at him.

''No, you almost crippled a bad guy!''

''So I was a lil' rough on him, that's not unusual, he -''

''A little rough? Rob, I've never seen you like that! You - you're always in control, dude, you... It was like you totally lost it.''

''He had a gun!'' Robin is close to yelling as he stretches his hands out in exasperation. ''What was I supposed to do?! Let him shoot you?!''

They all felt it, felt that something wasn't really right, that something was missing, lacking, like something in Robin's head had been switched off but - but no one said anything at first because it doesn't feel right, they're afraid to bother him because he's been through so much. If they just let him let out the rage and blow off some of the steam, maybe then they wouldn't have to fix him. Maybe he'd be right as rain and everything could be normal again.

Victims felt powerless, if he could regain power just for a little moment maybe he'd be okay, maybe they'd be okay and maybe - maybe they could be a family again.

But it is futile, childish thinking and Kaldur curses himself because he should have seen it coming. He should have anticipated and prepared and the fact that he didn't makes him doubt his position as leader for the thousandth time this month.

Robin notices the pity in his eyes and it makes him angrier than their accusations. It makes him angry that after everything, every time he's proven himself they still think of him as a stupid child even though he has more experience, better training, than any of them.

''Look, I know my job, I'm good at what I do. Why can't you trust me on that?''

Artemis lets out a sarcastic laugh.

''Yeah! That's rich! Us trusting the batboy who can't even turn his back on us.''

Robin's face tightens and his fists curl into tiny balls. His heart sinks into his gut as the words echo around in his head.

''Maybe if you would back off for one second! I don't need a babysitter!''

''No, you need help.''

''What's that supposed to mean?'' Robin looks around at them as suddenly everyone but Artemis is too ashamed to meet his gaze. ''Kal? Con? Wally?'' But Wally just scratches his neck, his eyes dart around to anything but him and Robin doesn't understand why they're not looking at him. Like they're afraid of him, like - maybe they're disgusted revolted repulsed because they know what if they all know what happened what if -

Robin feels the familiar taste of bile in the back of his throat but he keeps it down, can't break down now when they're already looking at him like he's just escaped from Arkham.

''I see'' he spits out through tightly clenched teeth. ''You think... You think I'm...''

''Rob, it's - we care about you, alright?''

Robin doesn't dignify his best friend with a look and it hurts but Wally knows these things need to be said, Robin needs to hear that maybe everything isn't as good as he tries to pretend.

''So let me take care of it! I'm not - I'm not helpless I'm just - '' he just wants them too look at him like they used to, as a friend and teammate, as an equal, not as a victim as a broken animal; as something they scraped off the road and took home, not something they feel sorry for he - knows he doesn't deserve it, knows he lost control, knows he had his chance and he let them down and he's a failurfailurefailure and it's his fault he was captured and Robin should have been more, he should have been enough but it's never enough he just wants to be enough -

''Robin. You disobeyed my direct orders, you know that for us to work as a team I need you all to work in symbiosis. I need you to listen to my commands.'' Kaldur's eyes are determined but understanding, always the diplomat his voice is a perfect blend of tough and caring. ''You endangered not only the hostages but your team as well; you rushed into that scene without planning. You almost got yourself killed and you almost got our positions compromised -''

''Fine!'' Robin can't stop the rise in his voice and Kaldur looks as if his words have physically hit him. ''I get it! It's really nice of you to take me out on a mission to make me feel included - '' the vicious sarcasm is coming off his body in waves, his voice basically radiating frustration, bitterness and betrayal. ''But drop the charity charade, will you?''

''Robin, that is not what I was implying -''

''Well, what are you implying, oh, fearless leader?! That I'm not sufficient, that I'm not good enough? That I'm weak?!''

The silence is hard and unforgiving for a long moment during which Robin tries to stop his knees from shaking, tries to stop his stomach from contorting but it's becoming too much too much inside his head and he's starting to lose control.

''Robin, I assure you... No one here thinks anything like that about you. We know you're good at what you do, there is - there is nothing more we can ask of you, Robin, but I need you to understand... I know you understand the importance of a good leader-member relationship.''

''We're just trying to look out for you'' Artemis says and her irritaiton is clear and powerful. ''Why can't you see that? Why do you have to treat us like we're the enemy? We're not your enemy, Robin!''

''Why - '' Robin swallows down the lump in his throat but it only grows bigger. ''- why is it so odd to you that I wanted to protect you?''

Conner looks up at him for the first time in days, since he got home Conner hasn't met his eyes and Robin has gotten angry, furious, like Conner thinks he's dirty filthy disgusting and the words of the ornithologist ring loud in his head.

No one will ever want you when we're through, Robin, no one will ever care for you like I do so why don't you just give me what I want? I'm the only one who cares, Robin, the only one who understands your pain. Do you think they will ever want you back after this? I've tainted you, I've marked you with my smell and touch and feel and you're used up, Robin, you're filthy and broken and no one will ever want you like I do Robin, I'm your only friend in the entire world so just give me what I want.

''You endangered civilians, you used excessive violence on the guilty and you compromised your team'' Kaldur says calmly. ''You must understand why we are upset.''

I'm all you've got left, Robin. Why can't you understand that?

Robin bows his head and suddenly he feels cold. Every emotion that roared inside him has suddenly gone quiet, and left is nothing but an echoing sense of emptiness.

''I...'' but he doesn't know what to say because he can't even remember doing any of those things; all he remembers was saving innocents and punishing the guilty and it was fine, they made it out with no major injuries or setbacks and it was okay. ''C'mon, it's... We saved the day, guys. Isn't that what counts?''

Conner recognizes the anger in him, knows what it does and how it blinds one's mind and he understands, but he can't understand more than that because Robin looks like a stranger; he looks so lonely and frightened and it's not the hero that he got to know, this isn't Robin, this is someone damaged and Conner just wants his old friend back.

''Sometimes - sometimes when I get angry'' Conner tries to find the words but his mind is a mess of questions and - and fear. But he doesn't know what he could possibly be afraid of; he is invulnerable, nothing can ever hurt him so why is he so scared that something bad will happen? Everytime someone leaves the room, when he's alone he wonders if they'll return and Conner is forced to realize that... they're not strong like him. Not invulernable or tough like he is. They could all die so easily and Conner doesn't want to lose them. ''I forget where I am and all I can see is the object that I want to destroy. Maybe... maybe you lost... sight, of things.''

M'gann squeezes his hand in encouragement but Conner can't even offer her a tiny smile.

''Look, I'm sorry, okay?'' Robin pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. ''It won't happen again.''

And Robin is confused and Robin is scared because he doesn't understand what he did wrong and he doesn't understand why they're so angry with him. They're still looking at him like he did something wrong - like he did something unforgivable and horrible but he can't remember what he did.

''I think... maybe you should take it easy for a while.'' Kaldur says and at seeing the horror on the youngest's face he is quick to clarify. ''No, I am not suspending you, I just think... that maybe you need some time to sort out your thoughts. I could teach you some meditation techniques to calm you down and... maybe we could focus on strengthening our bonds as a team before you go out on any more missions.''

Robin's fists are trembling and his knees are shaking so hard he can barely stand up and Robin just wants to punch him.

''So that's it, huh?'' Robin smiles but it's sad and strained and wounded and Kaldur has to try so hard not to tear his eyes away. ''I'm useless to you now? Fine. If that's... that's how you feel I...'' he understands why no one would want him. Why would anyone ever want him again after what he did? Batman wants him off, of course his team would too. Robin almost feels stupid for not having seen it coming but he can't fight the hurt that is rising in his chest because they're his friends, for Christ's sake. They shouldn't - shouldn't do this to him, it's unfair of them to punish him when he hasn't even done anything wrong.

Robin rubs his eyes tiredly and in that moment he looks so young.

''No'' he says then and his voice is firm. ''No, Kaldur, you... Not you too. Not...'' They're supposed to be his friends, supposed to be his family and instead they are throwing him out like he is garbage. He draws a heavy sigh as the anger fights and coils within him; so many emotions die and resurface he's unsure of what he really feels. The only thing he does know is that he's exhausted and he just needs to rest. But how can he rest knowing no one trusts him anymore?

When words fail him, when emotions and logic and sense flees as the rats from a sinking ship, Robin stops thinking and turns around to leave.

''Rob, come on!'' Wally shouts after him and slight panic tinges his voice. ''Rob, he didn't mean it like that! Kal, tell him you didn't mean it like that!''

The look he gives the Atlantean is desperate and pleading but Kaldur can't let his guilt cloud his senses. He knows it is the right thing to do, not only for him or the team but for Robin as well. At least, he thinks it's the right thing to do. He truly hopes it is, but he can't be sure of anything anymore. Kaldur doesn't want the responsibility, doesn't want the burden but he knows he has to take it. It wouldn't be fair of him not to take it and he just needs to make sure he can keep them together. He has to make sure they will get through this.

''Look what you did!'' Wally is belligerent and his pacing has doubled in speed. ''You... you scared him off! Nice work, Kaldur! Now we'll never get to see him again and how could you say that?! What if he never comes back, Kal? Huh? What if he never wants to come back here again?''

''Kid Flash, please, you must see my reasoning. Surely, you do not ... you must understand where I'm coming from, here?''

''All I know is that Rob needs us, more than ever and you're shutting him out! What's he supposed to do? Get hugs and rainbows from the goddamn Batman?!''

''Wally, you're angry. I - if you calm down, maybe we can -'' but M'gann doesn't get to finish the sentence as Wally's glare rips all words from her mind.

''Guys, come on! This is Robin!''

''No, it's not'' Artemis meets his glare defiantly, she's too tired to fight but Wally isn't giving her much choice. ''It's not Robin, Wally. It's... have you seen the look on his face?''

Wally whips his around in paranoia, force of habit after hanging out with the Boy Wonder for too long. It wouldn't surprise him if the boy is listening in on them from the shadows.

''He's a mess, Wally. He's a mess and we can't clean it up for him when we're in the crossfire. I agree with Kaldur. I think he should stay out of the missions until he...''

''Until what? Until he's better? You don't get better from this type of thing, Artemis! What if - what if he never gets better? What if - '' What if Robin is gone? What if he lost him that day and the stranger in his shoes is there to stay forever? What if Wally really lost his best friend and what if, what if he won't ever come back? What does he do then? Wally doesn't know, he doesn't even want to think about it because thinking about it means it's a possibility but the harder he pushes against the thoughts the wilder they rampage in his head. ''I... He's our friend. We... we have to help him.''

And Wally feels powerless and small and stupid.

''We will'' Conner speaks up from his contemplative silence.

''How?'' Wally's voice is coarse and his shoulders slump as the anger drains to give way for desperation. ''How could we... How does anyone...''

''Don't know'' Conner admits. ''But we'll find out.''

Wally sighs and shakes his yead.

''Rob needs this.''

Kaldur puts a hand on his shoulder and is pleased when the speedster doesn't shrug it off. Wally just looks at him and he's so tired and worn and he just wants everything to go back to normal.

''Wally, I am not suspending him. I am just... keeping an eye on him, alright? I still... I want him to take some time to himself, for a while, okay? Just a little while, to collect his thoughts, and then we will see. Alright?''

But they're wrong they're so wrong because they don't know him like Wally does; they don't know that Robin has to keep busy has to keep moving or else his demons will consume him. Whenever Robin has a tough time he just needs to do something - he can't be still and Kaldur is talking about putting him in suspension and Wally can't let them do it; can't stand idly by and watch as they do something so reckless.

''I am just trying to help'' Kaldur reassures his teammate as Wally looks conflicted, but the redhead doesn't buy it. ''We all just want what's best for him and the team.''

''You don't get it.'' Wally sighs in resignation. ''Fine. Whatever. I'll do it myself, then.''

''Where are you going?'' Artemis shouts after him as Wally walks away, irritated that he's just leaving them hanging in the biggest decision they have ever had to make.

''Unlike you I'm actually going to try to help him!''

Artemis wants to run and punch him, hit him with her bow until the boy can't tell up from down but she controls herself. One more compromised member wouldn't be good, so instead she takes ten deep breaths and clenches her fists to keep them from attacking anything.

''Jerk''


	9. Chapter 9

Ooops. Forgot about this for a bit, didn't I? Putting up three to make up for lost time.

No trigger warnings. Just unbeta'd writing. Hope it's tasty?

* * *

As Wally gets home it is already dawn but he has no intention to sleep. He had to run around a while, had to blow off some steam, had to aimlessly just run with no real goal in mind. Something to clear his head but as his legs finally tire he has reached no new conclusions. Instead he presses the communicator hard, unnecessarily so, and waits for the person on the other line to answer him.

''Kid Flash to Robin, are you there?''

But there is no answer and while Wally rummages through the fridge, the seconds tick idly by with no words breaking through the silence.

''Rob, come on, pickuppickuppickuppickuppick uppickuppickuppickuppickuppi ckuppickuppickuppickuppickup !''

There are rustlings coming from upstairs and since Wally doesn't want to wake anyone, he grabs an armful of food and heads to his room. He attempts to reach Robin between the bites, but as all the food is consumed and his legs are feeling better Robin has yet to pick up. He hope he's sleeping, but if he knows his friend right the kid is probably wide awake and active. It stings that he would willingly give Wally the silent treatment like this, but considering the circumstances he can't say he's all that surprised.

Begrudgingly, Kid Flash attempts a last resort.

''Kid Flash to Batman, are you there?''

But only static answers him and Wally hopes the man has a damn good reason for ignoring him. Not that it is unusual for the man to ignore him, but Wally really needs to talk to him and if he thinks he can avoid Wally West of all people - well, he's got another thing coming.

''Bats, I know where you live. Pickuppickuppickuppickuppick uppickuppickuppickuppickuppi ckuppickuppickuppickuppickup pickuppickup -''

He spends at least forty five minutes repeating angry messages into the comlink - at least he thinks it's that long, but admittedly, his perception of time is a little skewed.

''- pickuppickuppickuppickuppick uppickup pick up, damn it! Pickuppickuppickuppickuppick uppickuppickuppickup, I know where your work is pickuppickuppickuppickuppick uppickup or I will come into your cave and -''

''What do you want?'' The voice is grim and stern as usual but he seems a bit more annoyed than normal, which is not entirely unexpected as it is quite late - early? - and Wally is nagging him like only a speedster can.

''What's going on, Bats?''

''Right now you are disturbing me in the middle of important work. I hope you have a good explanation for this.''

''Dude, what's going on? Something... Some... What aren't you telling us?''

''A lot of things. Specify.''

Wally groans loudly and disapprovingly and he hopes Batman can feel how frustrated he is, he hopes he can feel it and hopes he is bothered because Wally is more than just annoyed - he is going out of his mind he is furious because he knows, he can feel that there's something that they're all keeping from him.

''You know what I mean! What's going on? What aren't you telling us? Bats, what's wrong with him?'' as only silence greets him over the comlink Wally sighs in uncontained frustration. ''Bats, I know him, I know when something is wrong. I know something is up but I just... You're not giving us the full story, I can feel it. I'm not stupid, Batman. What are you hiding?''

''I have given you all the information that you need.''

''But -''

''Batman out.''

The link is dead and silent and Wally doesn't dare to breathe in case the man will change his mind, say something else but only too quietly for Wally to hear him. But nothing is heard in his ear and he just sits there mutely, dumbly staring at the wall as the comlink's sparks and echoes tell him nothing.

With an indignated huff Wally decides there's only one thing left for him to do.

* * *

''Master Dick , someone is here to see you.''

Dick wipes the dripping ends of his hair with the towel; after his morning work-out he had just the time to shower before the butler knocks on the bathroom door. Dick pulls a t-shirt over his head and hops into his jeans, hangs the towel neatly on its rack and opens the door to peek questioningly at the older man.

''What time is it?''

''It is six ante meridiem, I believe.''

Dick frowns and eyes the rest of the corridor suspiciously.

''Who'd come see me at this hour?''

Alfred smiles.

''A most impatient young gentleman, master Dick.''

Dick sighs in annoyance. Of course it had to be Wally. He hadn't taken a hint when Robin had been ignoring him for half the morning - something which was really hard even as his best friend because after a while it just got to a point where Robin was near insanity - so of course he'd come over. When Wally's mind was set on something he couldn't help but be pulled along with it; the kid was like a moth sometimes. As soon as a light appeared he had to follow it , nothing else could exist before he got it out of his system.

As Richard reaches the enormous hallway the older teen is, as expected, pacing around in impatience. The moment he hears the newcomers' steps his head snaps up and Wally just looks so happy for a moment - Dick can't remember the last time he saw him so excited, but then his face turns grim and serious as the green eyes find an interesting spot in the ceiling.

''What are you doing here?''

''Just uuuuh - thought I'd swing by, you know, say hello and all that. Socialize with my best bud and yanno...''

''Wally, it's six a.m. I didn't think it was physically possible for you to be awake before noon.''

Wally glares at him half-heartedly.

''Dude, uncool! I get up early! Sometimes. Occassionally.''

Dick raises a dubious eyebrow.

''Riiiiight.''

And Wally wants to grin like an idiot because for that moment it's almost like time has been reset; like they're back before that happened and Dick is Dick and Wally is Wally and they're alright. They're okay and nothing has changed between them. It's now he notices that the mask isn't on - probably thanks to Bruce, he reckons - and Dick's eyes are clear and familiar and so blue like the sky in the summer or cotton candy at the carneval and balloon animals and those flowers he doesn't know the name of because they're flowers and - and he's so glad Dick's not a telepath because Wally could just die of embarrassment if anyone ever heard him think like this.

''Could we uhh, you know. Go somewhere?'' then he adds in a whisper ''Private.''

Dick almost looks a bit alarmed at first, and Wally can't decide how to react to it. So he doesn't. He lets the paranoia and the distrust go and instead waits for Dick to show the way.

''Fine. We can go to my room.''

The two don't speak at all on their way up the stairs and it's making Wally nervous. The muscles in Dick's back are tense and taut and it's only now that Wally realizes his hair is wet and he looks so small in the oversized Superman-t-shirt. Bruce must not be home but he kind of hopes he is just so he can see the look on his face at the sight of what his ward is wearing. But the steel lump in his throat always makes itself painfully known when Wally looks at him nowadays. For every day that goes by it's like more and more of his best friend is fading away from him. He can't help but feeling like he's losing him and - and he looks thinner, as if that was even possible because he was already so scrawny and tiny and short - Wally can faintly hear Dick's voice in his head saying ''I'm a gymnast! I'm supposed to be short and skinny!'' like it makes him look any less like a little gnome and -

''Sometimes I feel like you spend more time in your head than in the real world'' Dick's voice says from outside, form the real world and only now does Wally realize he's in the boy's room. His huge, fancy room which Wally is only kinda, maybe a little bit jealous of. ''So, what'd you want to talk about?''

The redhead glances at the door which is wide open.

''Uh... could we close that? I don't want any eavesdroppers.''

Dick's body tenses only minimally, but Wally sees it.

''I'd... rather not.''

Wally sighs.

''Dick, c'mon. It's... I won't hurt you, I -'' he shouldn't have to say this because Dick should know, damn it. He should know that Wally would be the last person on Earth to ever, ever hurt him and suddenly the door makes him so angry he wants to kick it down, burn it and obliterate it. He wants to smash every door in the entire world so that Dick can never ever shut him out like this. ''Come on, man. It's me. It's the Walman. I won't murder you, I swear!''

Dick looks guilty for a second, and suddenly he has trouble meeting Wally's eyes.

''Fine. Close it.''

Wally takes a deep breath and has the task done in less than a second. He makes sure to keep as far away from the other boy as possible though; the tenseness is only getting worse and Dick has to sit on his hands because they just won't stop shaking. He tries not to think of it, tries not to take it personally because come on, the kid was tortured and abused and of course that makes you edgy and nervous and it's not like the Batfamily weren't unhealthily paranoid before all of this - Batman wouldn't even let Dick sleep over at the mountain for weeks because he thought they may try something shifty and - Wally bites his lips and tries to push his runaway thoughts into obedience.

''Dick, what's wrong?''

The boy doesn't answer him, just looks at his feet like they're the most mesmerizing things he's ever encountered.

''Dude, Rob. It's me. Why... Why can't you talk to me? I though I was your best friend! You - you shared your identity with me and - '' Wally sighs. ''I just want to help you.''

Dick puts his face in his hands and groans, irritably, and shakes his head.

''Why does everyone keep doing that?''

''What? Care?''

''No!'' Richard glares at him and there is something rough about his eyes. ''Why do you all have to treat me like I'm some drooling idiot? I'm not broken, Wally, so would you just stop trying to fix me?!''

Wally's shoulders sag but his mind is still wild and berserk with desperation.

''Because you're... Don't you think I can tell after all this time when something's up? Don't think I don't know when something's not right because I know you, Dick. I know when you're bottling up more than you can handle and I just want you to talk to me!''

''There is nothing to talk about! Okay?! I'm fine, everything's fine and the only problem I do have is everyone treating me like a child! Just back off already!'' he is on his feet now and looking ready to fight him, his stance preparing for a jump, a kick and his arms pressed defensively along his sides. ''I can take care of myself.''

''No, you can't.'' Wally shakes his head. ''You used to but... Dick, you're... different. There's just... You're tense and edgy and jumpy and as soon as someone gets within three feet of you, you just tense up and - you won't even let me close the door to a room the size of my kitchen, for crying out loud!''

Dick doesn't answer, only looks at him long and hard and angry. But Wally won't look away, won't back down because his friend needs him and - and Wally doesn't care how hard Dick tries to chase him away because Wally won't leave him. Not again, not ever again.

''I don't... it's like I don't know you anymore, Dick.''

Dick lets out a tired, shaky sigh and draws a hand across his eyes.

''Wally, I don't... What do you want me to say?''

''Just... tell me what's wrong. Tell me what I can do, tell me... tell me what's happening, Dick.''

Dick crosses his arms and his posture slackens, for the first time since he got home it looks like he's not on the defensive. Wally can't be sure, can't be too hopeful because he doesn't want to say the wrong thing or ruin this but - but it's almost like Dick is giving up. Like he's almost, just a tiny little fraction, letting him in.

''I don't know what to tell, you Wally. I mean... I... I mean, maybe I am a little... tense but... That's just normal, right?'' and he looks at him like he wants Wally to agree, wants Wally to reassure him that he's not losing his mind. ''I just need to... sort my thoughts out, that's all.''

Wally knows that isn't even half the truth, nowhere near it but he also knows when not to push him. He's already gotten this far and he's not about to get shoved out now, not when he's so close to getting in. Wally doesn't know what he can do or even how, he just wants him to stop being afraid to be around him, wants him to relax and trust him again he - Wally doesn't care right now if Dick never wants to touch his hand again, never wants to give him a high-five or be subjected to a tickle attack he just - he just wants him back.

''Do you...'' Dick awkwardly looks away in sudden embarrassment. ''Do you want to... sleep? Here, I mean.''

Wally's mouth hangs open, useless as a wet towel as he doesn't know what to say because he can't believe what Dick actually just said.

''It's - it's fine if you don't want to!'' Dick adds hurridely, nervously and Wally can't help but find it kind of adorable when he looks like that. Dick almost never looks so nervous, so flustered and awkward and - ''I just... just thought maybe... We haven't really hung out in a while and I dunno... There's this old B-horror flic on tonight and we could watch it and maybe make some popcorn and I dunno, just...''

''I thought daddy-Bats didn't like me staying over.''

Dick looks at him now and Wally's not sure but it almost looks like he's about to grin.

''The big bad Bat is away on a business thing - Wayne Tech business, I mean - so you don't have to worry.''

''I dunno, man, he might try to strangle me in my sleep.''

''Nah, I won't let him. Promise.''

And Wally can't help but smile.


	10. Chapter 10

The movie isn't particularly good. Of course, he hadn't expected much from something titled The Horrific Brain Eaters From Planet Death. It didn't really matter, anyway; Wally wasn't paying it much attention. Trying to fit too many mouthfuls of popcorn into his mouth at once, the snacks were gone and refilled every other minute. Normally Alfred would have been annoyed, he always preferred it if Dick told him far, far in advance when the West boy stayed over so that he could stock up on food, lest Wally eat them out of the house before the first hour. But today he didn't mind and, like any good butler, served the boys in silence.

It had been a bit tense between the older man and Dick the morning after his attack in the kitchen, but Alfred said nothing of it and eventually Dick could look him in the eyes again. Because Alfred knew when not to prod, and Dick would always be thankful for that. Just like tonight when he kept to himself and even took the time to make them pizza - because homemade pizza was better than the 'nutritionless, unhealthy garbage' they had originally wanted to order - and for the most of the evening, the boys were left alone.

Dick was more immersed in the movie than his friend, though it was clear that he wasn't entirely focused. Dick's mind kept slipping in and out of his surroundings and though the movie was mind-numbingly bad in its own right, there were thoughts that, as always, were reluctant to leave him in peace. Wally snuck a glance at the other every now and then; the boy had his back pressed deep into the backrest and was near buried in blankets, but every time his eyes seemed to get that distant, far off haze Wally would glance from out of the corner of his eye.

''Dude. Creepy much?''

Of course, nothing seemed to ever escape the Boy Wonder. Wally looked away and something that felt too much like a blush burned his face.

''Sorry.''

Dick gave him a suspicious glance but soon returned his eyes to the screen.

They watched the rest of it in silence, but it was a comfortable one and for the first time in weeks Wally felt at ease. He wasn't fidgeting much more than he always did - the movie was bad, but it was extra terrible for him as it seemed more than just one hour and twenty minutes long - and though they weren't critisizing and making fun of everything the actors did like they usually would, he felt close to something that almost looked like normalcy.

Wally doesn't mind that he has to sleep on a cot, it's what he always does, anyway. He's just glad he's out of the guest room; in the beginning Bruce would force him in there every time he actually got the man's permission to sleep over. Normally he would have, well, maybe been a little bit annoyed. There was never much sleeping done whenever he was there - Robin would eventually doze off and Wally would lay quietly contemplating. He'd watch the back of his friend as it rose and fell, listen to the calm breathing and wonder what Dick was dreaming about. Yeah, it made him feel like a creep but... who would know, anyway?

Except this time Dick doesn't turn his back to him. Though he isn't staring at him like a ghost through the dark either, like Wally first thought he would. He is staring, but at the ceiling, still on his back with his arms tightly held across his chest - hugging the covers close to him with a gaze so intense it looks like he's trying to develop heat vision. The breathing is even but not the one of a sleeping person and instead it's Wally who turns his back and gives him privacy, lets him know that it's alright. He turns a vulnerable part of his body towards the other boy so as to let him know he's in control and he has the power.

Normally he'd fantasize about crawling into the bed. Not doing anything in particular, he just liked to imagine the two sleeping next to each other. Imagine the smell of his hair and the warmth of him, imagine the movements in the mattress as Dick fidgets around in his sleep. Usually it hurts, in a strange way that Wally had a hard time - still does, sometimes - accepting. The amount of fear and panic that had hit him when he first realized what those feelings meant... Wally had almost fled the country. He had been unable to meet the boy's eyes for days and days until Dick finally took him aside and asked why he was so angry with him.

Wally had just laughed weirdly. Angry? Wally had been anything but angry. Well, maybe at himself, for having these stupid feelings, for acting like a little fanboy gushing over his latest crush - for having these feelings for his best friend of all people. And a boy, to boot. The whole thing was just so absurd to him, Wally had been so ashamed at first because what if Robin knew? What if he could see it in his face? What if he could hear the things Wally thought sometimes?

In hindsight he could laugh at himself and his stupid behaviour, but at the time his fears had seemed rational. What if Robin found out and never wanted to be around him again? Stupid - Robin wouldn't mind if he was gay - not that Wally knew if he even was, he hadn't reached a satisfying conclusion about that, really. Bi, maybe. He liked girls. Or, well, he really, really, really liked girls and it was so strange that something that had taken up the majority of his thinking was suddenly replaced by a scrawny little midget acrobat. Wally didn't know and now it all seemed too pointless to think about.

He would lie if he said that he wasn't disappointed - that he wasn't sad that Robin probably would want less to do with him now. If the boy couldn't even shake hands with him, how would they ever get to doing anything else? Forget about kissing and all that fun stuff; Wally would be content just sleeping next to him. They didn't even need to touch each other, just... Wally just wanted to be close to him.

But tonight he isn't angry or sad or disappointed about sleeping on the cot. Tonight he's happy he's even let into the room.

He listens intently for a long, long while. For sounds of nightmares, signs of turmoil but the more he concentrates the more tired he gets and Wally doesn't want to fall asleep because what if something happens - what if the bad guys escape from jail, what if they come to seek revenge, what if they come in and take him again and Wally isn't awake , Wally doesn't notice - what if something happens? He knows the mansion is very secure, knows they have to get through Alfred, knows Batman wouldn't let it happen again but, despite knowing in his gut that he's being irrational Wally can't stop the feeling of dread crawling down his spine.

''Dick?'' he whispers through the room as he can't stop his mind from shouting. He just needs to make sure, needs to know the boy is still there before he can get any semblance of peace in his mind.

''Wally?'' a quiet voice says tiredly, almost a little bit annoyed.

''Were you sleeping?''

There is a pause before he answers.

''No.''

''Alright. Just checking.''

Dick doesn't answer, but Wally can feel the strange look he's getting. He decides to ignore it and instead close his eyes, trying to will his mind into silence and sleep, even though he doesn't feel any calmer than he did mere moments ago.

''Hey, Wally?'' Dick says after a while and the other boy turns around.

''Huh?''

Dick hesitates a second, then sighs heavily.

''Thanks.''

''No problemo!'' Wally frowns. ''Uhm, for what, exactly?''

''Just...'' Dick doesn't even really know. He just feels like he needs to thank him, needs him to know that he appreciates him and how much he really means to him, but Dick doesn't have any idea of how to express it. ''You know.''

''Not really, no. But uh... you're welcome?''

Dick turns around to look at him now. His face is barely visible in the dark and even with the slight crack in the curtains, the light is too dim for Wally to see what his face looks like. Just one blue eye is visible to him and it's looking tired. Too tired.

''I just... I know it's not... easy. And uh...'' Dick scratches his nose, his hand slim and ghostly in the blue light from outside. ''I had fun tonight.''

Wally smiles at him, even if the boy can't really see it in the dark.

''Me too. Though it was a terrible movie.''

''You're welcome to choose next time.''

''Next time?'' Wally can't really help the high-pitched tone of his voice and immediately he wants to slide under his covers because he can't believe how embarrassingly excited he joust sounded.

''Well, duh. You thought I wasn't -'' then Dick goes very, very quiet.

Wally waits for him to continue speaking but Dick doesn't say a word and after a moment he thinks he hears the boy turn to his back again. And then Wally realizes what a stupid idiot he is because Dick probably took it the wrong way; probably thought it meant he never wanted to come over again and Wally just wants to slap himself. He wants to say something but isn't sure what because it all sounds so stupid in his head, he can't imagine it being any better out loud.

''You don't laugh anymore.'' Wally says the first thing that comes to mind and, as usual, it proves to be a bad idea.

Dick shifts slightly, tensing maybe, and Wally doesn't want to just slap himself anymore - he wants to go out into the backyard and shoot himself.

''You really don't know, do you?'' Dick's voice is hushed, and it takes a while for the redhead to even register it.

''Know what?''

Silence.

''Nothing.''

''No, dude, know what?''

''Nothing, Wally. Just -'' the boy sighs, shakily. ''Nothing.''

And Wally is hurt and Wally is angry because Dick is still doing it, he's still shutting him out and he knows he needs to be patient, needs to be understanding but Wally can't help but feel insulted because of everything they've ever gone through, everything Dick's ever confided in him - the one time when it seems so immensely important he's being left out. The time that Wally really needs to help him, Dick won't let him. Of course, he never lets him, never lets anyone as if he has to prove himself to - no one, everyone, and it makes him want to punch him sometimes because no one's ever asked him to. No one's ever needed him to because there's no doubt he is every bit as capable as them, sometimes even more so.

''Dick. You can trust me.''

''I know that.''

''So why aren't you?''

Dick sits up hastily, gripping the covers hard and almost angrily.

''It's not that easy!'' Dick hisses quietly, though Wally doesn't understand why because the mansion is huge and Alfred isn't even anywhere near their room. ''I - I can't just-''

''What? Talk to me? Dude, you always... You've always talked to me, Dick. Why is now any differently?''

''Because it just is, Wally! It's different and I can't talk to you right now because -'' Robin rubs his hand across his face and groans in frustration.

''Becaaaause..?''

Because Dick doesn't want him to know, because he's afraid of what he will think if he ever does, because Dick isn't ready for anyone to know. It's bad enough that Bruce does, and probably the rest of the League or, at least the ones who were there and he has no idea how much they saw, how much they learned, how much of the turmoil in their eyes is pity and how much is disgust and - Dick doesn't want Wally to look at him like they do.

''It doesn't matter'' he says and the strain in his voice is rough against Wally's ears. ''Forget it.''

Wally wants to protest, wants to tell him that he can't forget, that he knows there's something he isn't being told, something he isn't being trusted with but he doesn't even have the time because Dick is up and out of the room before he even opens his mouth. Wally sits in shame, in guilt, for many long minutes after the door is shut. He wants to go after him but, it feels wrong to chase him when he's already upset and Wally is so stupid because they were having a good time, everything was good and familiar and then he had to open his idiot mouth and ruin it.

Wally lies down and tries to sleep, tries not to think about if Dick just changed rooms or never wants to talk to him or wherever he could be. Tries not to think of him heading to the gym to work off some stress or if he's in the kitchen - with a grumble Wally's stomach reminds him of how hungry he is and it's been at least two hours since he ate - or pacing around the corridors. But of course he can't sleep because his mind is relentless and the tiredness is evaporated, gone without a trace and it's driving Wally insane to have to lie there and listen to his own frantic thoughts.

Eventually he has enough and gets up to go look for him. The floor is cold but Wally doesn't take the time to put his socks on, just gets out of the bed and walks out. He would prefer to use his speed because Dick could be anywhere in the building and it's going to take forever to locate him and Wally will probably get lost and starve to death before morning but, it is dark and running into walls hurts. So he tries his best to be calm and walk like a normal person, though he can't help but be just a tad too fast.

The mansion is silent and expecting, the many portraits watching him from the walls, it almost feels like they're judging him. Some of the corridors are lit up by giant windows, but most of the mansion is dark and looming. He listens intently for sounds, for movements but after the twentieth room he still hasn't found anything. There is nothing coming from the kitchen and it seems even Alfred is asleep. Wally has no idea what time it is but he's pretty sure it's too early for him to have gotten up.

After what feels like hours but has only been twenty minutes he passes one of many bathroom doors and he almost walks right by it when he hears it. Wally's heart stops in his chest and for a second he forgets to breathe. He looks at the door in what can only be described as fear and suddenly he regrets ever leaving the bedroom at all.

Wally doesn't know if he should even knock anymore, doesn't know if he should bother the boy because suddenly it feels so very private and like he doesn't belong there. Like he should just go back to bed and pretend he never noticed anything because this is the first time Wally's ever heard Dick cry.

* * *

The water is hot against his skin and though it's drying it out, despite that his face has started flaking from the excessive usage he can't stop it. The filth is thick and heavy and Dick just wants to crawl out of his skin, wants to tear it off and step out. The dirt in his pores and in his very marrow is heavy, weighing him down and making it hard to breathe and Dick twists the shower handle but the water isn't hot enough. He wants it to boil, wants it to burn right through him but it won't go any higher - never goes any higher but every inch of his body is itching and he just wants it to stop.

He grabs the loafa which is course and rough and presses hard against his arm. It burns where the skin rips and the water isn't helping - but it takes his mind off it, takes his mind off the images and he presses harder and harder even though he's close to bleeding. It just won't clean, it won't clean him like he needs it to but he doesn't know what else to do, he -

can feel the steel wool against his skin as if it was happening that very moment, can feel the hands squeezing at his wounds, digging in the flesh and he can feel it all and it's so real, it's so close to him he can smell the lye. So he scrubs harder and harder still, despite the water around his feet blending with red until it becomes an ugly, brown-tinted orange. He won't stop scrubbing until his entire arm is burning.

He pours the soap into his hands and only hesitates for a moment before he smears it on his arm. It stings so much he can't stand straight, has to steady himself against the wall and the rock in his chest is choking him. Dick can't breathe, can't see but at least he can't think and it's all that matters right now. He can feel the sting in his eyes and supposes he is crying - but just like all the other nights he can't tell the emotions apart anymore. Everything is just a mess of anger and shame and regret and fear - so much fear he doesn't know where to go or what to even do with himself, anymore - and then the water turns ice cold.

Dick curls into a ball on the floor, hugging himself tightly as he tries hard not to scream but it's so difficult because the water is cold and it hurts and it never get this cold - he can't remember if he showered earlier today, there should be warm water left but Dick can't focus - his vision is spotted in black and everything is spinning. He only barely stops himself from vomiting for what feels like the mllionth time and his throat has been sore for days, his breath has been awful but the bile keeps pushing and pushing like it's angry with him and the sudden wave of nausea leaves him too numb to move.

Dick let's a quiet sob out and buries his head in his knees. And he's disappointed. He's so angry with himself because Wally is over and he probably thinks Dick is angry with him but Dick isn't angry with anyone, just himself because he's so weak and small and pathetic. Because he's still afraid, he's terrified even though he's supposedly safe now. Dick can't relax - can't calm down, he needs to constantly be on edge because there's the looming threat of danger hovering above him every second of every minute of every day.

He knows they're in jail, knows Alfred wouldn't hurt him, the team would never hurt him and he doesn't understand - he hasn't been to school yet because the mere thought of being locked in a room with so many people he doesn't trust and they're going to be behind and in front and around him - Dick would be surrounded and just thinking about it makes his throat shut close.

His head and feet start hurting from the cold and his joints are stiff when he finally stands up; as he turns the knob his hand is trembling so hard he can't even begin to try and keep it still. On shaking legs he steps out of the shower and his muscles ache when he dries himself off and slips into his clothes. Dick's chest is still cluttered with what feels like sand and earth and grains while the tears run hot against his cheeks. He leans against the basin for support, stares into the drain and watches the water drip from his hair and through the tiny little holes.

Slowly Dick lifts his head to meet his reflection, not really wanting to but feeling like he needs to see himself - feels like he needs to punish himself for reasons he does not even know. The bile that had been retreating returns full force at the sigh of his face and it takes everything he has not to heave up the popcorn he ate earlier.

He only faintly, dimly hears the knock on the door and the panic is rising - but he bites down his teeth, tries to calm his breathing because he knows he's home, he's home and he's safe and it can't be anything dangerous but his heart won't slow down, only go faster and faster until he fears it may break through his ribcage.

''Dick?''

The voice is familiar but he doesn't know if it's of the good or the bad kind, can't tell if it's someone who wants to hurt him so Dick doesn't answer, just tries to turn away from the it; tries to push himself as closely against the faucet cabinet as he can and disappear.

''Dick, are you... are you alright?'' but Dick keeps on ignoring him. ''Can... can I come in?''

''Go away!'' Dick shouts and he doesn't even care that he can't keep his voice steady, he doesn't want anyone to be there because it's a tiny little room and it would be so easy for someone to just push him against the wall and - nononononononnonono.

''Come on, it's... it's just me, Dick. It's just... just me.''

Dick takes three deep breaths, then two and five and a thousand more until the room stops spinning. There are no sounds of footsteps and Wally is probably still there. Dick is starting to feel tired - his knees shake and tremble under the weight of his body and for a moment he just wants to collapse.

The door is slightly ajar and for a moment he's near panic again but then he feels Wally's smell, hears the familiar sound of his steps - that special, impatient, hurried Wally-walking-rhythm which seems... hesitant, this time - and tries his hardest to calm down. He tries to remind himself that Wally wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't harm him; the boy has tried so hard not to touch him, not even brush by or be close to him and it's so unfair of him to keep him at a distance and Dick tries so hard, so hard to trust him.

''Dude, are you..?''

Dick turns his face away, not because of the tears, he doesn't even care about the stupid tears right now, he just can't let Wally see him like this.

''C'mon, man, look at me. I won't make fun of you, I swear.''

Dick takes a deep, shaky breath but still doesn't move.

''Please, Wally, just go'' he croaks and it sounds so pathetic he can't believe Wally's still standing there. ''Just... just need to...''

''Let me help you, man.'' Wally looks at him all sad and worried and desperate, looks at him almost pleadingly. ''Just - just trust me, Dick.''

Dick doesn't reply, doesn't look at him but instead turns his eyes to the mirror. In the corner of his eye he registers the bright colour of Wally's pajamas. He doesn't say anything for several minutes and Wally is suddenly fidgeting again. Wally knows how much it takes for Dick to even still be in the room with him - the kid's been jumpy in bigger spaces than this one, though enormous - and Wally can see him clutching the t-shirt tightly around his body as if he feared Wally would - Wally doesn't even know. He just knows he's too close to the edge, getting too close to the line of what's acceptible but he can't go, he can't back out because his friend needs him.

''Look, I'll stand here by the doorway, okay? My hands up where you can see them. Now please'' Wally says ''please, just look at me, Dick.''

Dick stares at the mirror as if in a trance. Reaches an unsteady hand tentatively to his face and touches it, barely, like he doesn't really want to feel the skin under his fingertips but can't stop himself entirely. Wally watches him in silence and, though the tears have stopped, Dick's eyes are cold and frantic like he's not even seeing anything - like he's off somwehre in a land far away that Wally can't access.

''I can't go back'' Dick's quiet voice startles the speedster who tries to look unaffected.

''Can't go back where?''

Dick presses his fingers harder now, to really feel the texture of his face as he sweeps his hand across it.

''Not like... not like this.''

Wally's getting anxious and frightened because there is a detached coldness about his voice which has him on edge; Wally doesn't recognize his friend at all.

Dick slowly takes his hand down and lets it travel under the t-shirt, and as he draws the fingers briefly across his stomach he loses all strength in his legs. Wally's first reaction is to run over to him, but in the last second he stops himself. Dick keeps his hand on his belly, keeps feeling and poking at the skin and the panic is high and loud as it rises within him.

''Talk to me, man'' Wally says and crouches down to reach his eye level. ''What's going on? What's wrong?''

Dick just shakes his head.

''Don't be like that'' he says and he sounds angry, it confuses Wally because he doesn't know what he could have possibly done.

''Like what?''

Dick snaps his head to face him suddenly and violently, his eyes hard and cold and rough and hurtful.

''Look at my face, Wally! Look at my face!''

''Dick, there's nothing -''

''I can't go back to being Robin because look at me! Don't you think they'll see Dick Grayson and immediately recognize something like this?''

''I don't - Dick, what are you talking about? There's nothing with your face, you're - ''

''I can feel it , Wally, I can feel the marks on my skin!'' Dick pulls his hand out from the shirt so fast only Wally would notice and buries his face in his hands. ''I can't go back, can't go back like this, they'll see and they'll know and -'' he doesn't ever want to go near a scalpel ever again so he can't even get reconstructive surgery, he's trapped as Dick Grayson forever and he is the last person he ever wants to be.

''It's over'' Dick lets out a tiny little sob. Wally just wants to hug him. ''It's over, I'm over. Robin's over.''

''Dick... Dick I -'' Wally wants to pull his hands away from his face but he has learned the hard way not to listen to his urges. ''Look at me, man. There are no scars.''

''Shut up, shut up, Wally -''

''Dick, you're freaking me out.''

The younger boy looks at him then, through his fingers he glances with his eyes riddled in shame.

''But I can feel them'' he says and it's so narrow, so shallow and thin it barely passes as a voice. ''I can feel them, Wally.''

And Wally just sighs.

''You're stressed, you're... traumatized, Dick, it's just... you're just imagining it. You know they said - they said you wouldn't scar, right?''

Dick leans his head back against the cabinet and sighs.

''Not a mark'' he says.

''Exactly'' Wally nods. ''You - there is nothing on your face, okay? You... I mean, you see it, right? Tell me you see it.''

Dick doesn't answer, just lets his fingers trace along his stomach again. Wally doesn't know what to think or to believe; doesn't know what to do because everything is just so wrong. And it scares him because Dick looks so normal, so carefree every day he sees him, like nothing ever happened and it terrifies him to know what lurks beneath his calm exterior.

The two don't speak, because there's really nothing left to say. Wally just sits and waits, lets him know he's there for him but keeping his distance, and Dick keeps staring at the wall; his fingers brushing over the stinging skin, each time leaving him more nauseous than the last - but he can't let go. Because he can still feel it, raised high above the rest of his skin, rough yet soft under his fingers. He can't stop touching it because he can't ignore the truth - Dick can't forget, can't deny because he can't ignore what he knows deep, deep down. Dick carresses his stomach slowly and -

The word _WHORE_ is stark against his touch.


End file.
